


Would You Rescue Me

by shadowdreams



Series: Land of Reverence [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - No Exy (All For The Game), Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Canon-Typical Violence, Cussing, Dragons, Fantasy, Flashbacks, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Magic, Middle Ages, Mistaken Identity, Mutual Pining, No Smut, POV Andrew Minyard, POV Neil Josten, Prince Andrew Minyard, Prince Neil Josten, Witch Neil Josten, inaccurate portrayal of medieval times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-23 01:41:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 37,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23170411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowdreams/pseuds/shadowdreams
Summary: His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Nathaniel of Baltimore has been tasked with rescuing the shy Princess of Palmetto from a dragon as part of a marriage ritual as old as time.The only problem? That’s definitely not a princess waiting for him in a dingy cave in the mountainside.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: Land of Reverence [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1666870
Comments: 115
Kudos: 373





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for checking out this story!
> 
> First and foremost, I would like to apologize to all the cartographers and artists out there since I have failed them. I suck at drawing and the map below was the best I could do. I still hope that the drawing and/or description is somewhat helpful.
> 
> As always, if you notice any tags missing, please let me know.  
> Also, I tried to make this story somewhat readable for people using screen readers. If you're using one and this is terribly confusing, please let me know.
> 
> This story is unbetaed, so any mistakes shall please be graciously ignored.  
> The title is from the song Rescue Me by OneRepublic.
> 
> And with that out of the way, let’s suspend reality and dive right in!

_In the dark ages, the land and the sky had been at war, nature clashing with humans, hopes and dreams being destroyed and replaced with fear and panic._

_Centuries of darkness had followed. The land had gone to waste, life had gone extinct._

_Until, less than two centuries ago, humans had started to come back, to spread across the land._

_With them, creatures long forgotten had reappeared, hiding in the shadows of the mountains and in the waves of the ocean. Whispers of dark forces had traveled across the land, taking root in the minds of people, fostering fear and prejudice._

_Soon after, seven kings had emerged._

_Under their reign, the population had started to grow, to strengthen. They had formed communities, built houses and roads. The kings had started to explore this new reality and claimed it as theirs._

_Their people. Their land. Never to be taken away again, never to be destroyed. Their story of survival never to be forgotten._

_Knowledge of the past had been mostly lost, only the best kept archives still revealing stories of life in the dark ages. So, the kings had started anew: they had agreed on customs and laws and provided guidance and warnings._

_They had shaped life as people knew it to this day._

_Their land had become known as the Land of Reverence, their kingdoms known as the Seven Revered Kingdoms._

__


	2. Chapter 2 – POV Neil

**Kingdom of Baltimore | Fall, 164 th Year of Reverence **

_Fuck, fuck, fuck._

Neil was going to be late for his own royal sendoff.

_Fuck._

Running down the dark passageway hidden behind the thick stone walls of his father’s castle, he took a sharp turn down another narrow passage, catching himself against the damp wall with the gloved palm of his right hand before he could lose his balance, his uncovered fingers scratching along the rough surface.

Neil wasn’t usually a big fan of his black-on-black outfit—the extremely imaginative color scheme of the Kingdom of Baltimore—but he could admit it made moving in the dark easier. He doubted anyone had noticed him running across the foggy castle grounds and entering the network of inner passageways as he hurried to the front of the castle.

The uneven stone of the walls around him were thrown into stark contrast by the dim orb of light floating in front of Neil, straining to keep up with his pace as he reached a narrow staircase leading down to the next level. Taking the steps as fast as he could, Neil’s thick woolen cloak, reinforced with leather lining and fastened with black clasps in the front, swished over the dirty ground for only a second before billowing out once more as soon as he reached the end of the stairs and could speed up again.

Neil had spent the entire day hiding from the servants sent to help him get ready for his journey to the west of the Baltimore kingdom and across the border into the mountainous parts of the Kingdom of Palmetto.

Clearly, the lesson was that Neil was too good at hiding. He should keep that in mind for the next time he was sent off by his father, the King of Baltimore, to fight a dragon and marry a princess he didn’t know.

Or maybe they should get more competent servants.

Not that getting new servants would solve the problem with the dragon and the princess. Or the fact that his father wanted him to become ineligible to claim a throne, ideally by getting killed by a dragon. Or dying on the way from the cave to the kingdom of the princess where he was supposed to present her to her family and be given her hand in marriage and her kingdom to rule.

Neil was sure that his father didn’t really care _how_ Neil failed, as long as he did fail.

Continuing down the dark tunnel, his breath was coming out in warm puffs, turning the fabric of his bandana damp. It covered his mouth and nose, leaving his eyes the only visible feature of his face. He would’ve pulled it down to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling, but it kept the moldy smell of the tunnels at a bearable level. The hood of his cloak, however, had slipped off and was now resting on his shoulders, bouncing slightly with every step.

It was only late September, but winter had already arrived in the Kingdom of Baltimore several weeks ago, making thick clothing essential to survival. As the most northern territory of the _Seven Revered Kingdoms_ , forming the _Land of Reverence_ , people in Baltimore were used to the cold seeping through all layers of their clothes and dense fog hanging low over their village all year-round.

It didn’t mean that Neil _liked_ it, though.

With the journey into the mountains ahead of him, he was wearing his warmest outfit—he had definitely not expected to be running around the castle like this when he had dressed this morning.

His black linen tunic was barely visible under the thick leather jacket that was strapped across his chest and made for a tight fit, covered by plated armor across his shoulders, leather braces strapped to his forearms, extending to his knuckles and lined with metal, and a breastplate made of blackened metal with his kingdom’s insignia, a bird taking flight—not very scary if you asked Neil. His woolen breeches were covered by his leather pants with reinforced knee pads—the pants were too tight in Neil’s opinion and the sheathes for knives that were strapped to his thighs did not help in the least. And, finally, his black leather boots, worn and scuffed and each hiding two sheaths for knives.

Overall, his outfit was meant to allow for quick movement. But that didn’t mean it was designed for running for twenty minutes at top speed.

Neil could feel sweat forming between his shoulder blades under the many layers of fabric.

Ugh.

He wished he could go back to his room and continue hiding. Maybe take a bath—who knew when he would be able to wash during the journey ahead.

Getting closer to the front of the castle, he could hear people outside cheering for the ‘Royal Liberation’—the archaic ritual of a royal being sent off to rescue their future spouse from a cave protected by a dragon.

The tradition dictated that those caves were somewhere in the mountains, the natural habitat for most dragons. But since not every kingdom had mountains, the monarchs had started to become more creative over the last century. Neil had heard that apparently in the Kingdom of Millport—which wasn’t even near a port, so the name made no sense—they simply put the person that was supposed to be rescued behind a boulder somewhere in the desert with the dragon protecting the boulder.

And in the Kingdom of Troy where there was literally nothing but beaches and ocean, they apparently tended to put the person on a couple rocks in the ocean and the dragon simply flew circles until whoever came to the rescue would shoo the dragon away.

It made no sense, if you asked Neil.

But, of course, in Baltimore they had plenty of mountains. Just like they did in Palmetto.

Therefore, Neil got to experience a true Royal Liberation the way some senile, old men had cooked up at some point during the old ages: mountains, cave, dragon, journey back, and all.

And, judging on the colorful decoration (if you could call three different shades of dark blue ‘colorful’) and the ridiculous number of flags with their kingdom’s insignia that had been dumped on the castle and surrounding village, the people of Baltimore had even organized a fucking parade for him.

Everything about this was stupid, but especially the parade.

No, wait.

The wedding. The wedding was the most stupid thing about this.

Better.

But also the parade.

Since when did people in their kingdom even have parades. Usually, everyone avoided being seen outside—too paranoid of their king and his spies that heard every word and punished any form of resistance against his reign.

The word of King Nathan was law.

It was a lesson that Neil had learned early on and didn’t dare to question.

Partly, because he valued having all his fingers. But also, because no one ever talked to him, so he didn’t really have a chance to disparage his father in the first place. At least not here in their kingdom.

That was probably a good thing, since he’d been told he could be a bit short-tempered.

If you asked Neil, though, his temper was perfectly fine, thank you very much.

Jumping down a small set of stairs, taking all steps in one go, he could hear drums joining in with the crowd outside, giving the roaring noise a rhythm and turning it into a tidal wave that threatened to crash into the castle at any moment.

_Fuck._

His father was going to kill him for being late.

Why did Neil have to wait until the very last second to make his way to the front of the castle?

Sometimes, Neil was such an idiot.

> _[memory]_

> **_Kingdom of Millport | Summer, 161st Year of Reverence | Day 7 of the 319th Royal Quarterly Tournament_ **
> 
> “You are such an idiot.”
> 
> Neil grinned at the words, bumping his shoulder against Aaron’s as he sat down next to him, close to one of the many trees lending much needed shade in the Millport heat. Aaron and Neil had known each other for so long that the insult—if you could even call it one at this point—had lost all its meaning.
> 
> Aaron just rolled his eyes at Neil, taking a bite out of the pastry that Neil had stolen for him from the kitchen.
> 
> Leaning back on his hands and getting comfortable, Neil could see Millport castle standing tall and proud in the distance, yellow and red flags waving in the summer breeze.
> 
> Around them, the Royal Quarterly Tournament was underway, proud men and women walking to their designated arenas to fight in the various royal disciplines. At only 17 years, Neil and Aaron still fought in the young adult competition—unlike the adults, you were not allowed to kill or maim in the under 18 category.
> 
> Neil didn’t get the rule. Where was the point in fighting if you had to be careful not to hit the other person?
> 
> Aaron also thought it was stupid, so it had to be true.
> 
> The tournament was a traveling event, moving from kingdom to kingdom every three moon cycles, entertaining the lords and ladies of the land for 10 days with fights and festivities. The first couple days of competitions were always for the kids, then the young adults and finally the adults. Today, day seven of the tournament, both Aaron and Neil were already done. They had finished in their disciplines the day before, once again winning against the wannabe warriors and knights-to-be from the other kingdoms.
> 
> They had been the reigning champions for almost as long as they had been allowed to participate in the tournament at 13 years of age. As crown princes for their kingdoms, it was unusual to participate in the tournament. According to most royal families, it was too dangerous to let their children fight against each other.
> 
> Weaklings, all of them.
> 
> Aaron liked to say that if you couldn’t hold your own in a tournament arena, you had no right stepping into a throne room of a kingdom.
> 
> Needless to say, Aaron was the best. There was no one better with a longsword or a crossbow in any of the Seven Revered Kingdoms. His strength was unparalleled, and the adults already worried about having to go up against him in less than half a year. Neil was sure of it.
> 
> Aaron was a force to be reckoned with. He never looked more like a future king than when he walked onto the sand of an arena, easily commanding the space with his sheer presence.
> 
> When Aaron fought, Neil could never take his eyes off him.
> 
> He was sure neither could anyone else. Aaron was _that_ impressive.
> 
> Unlike Aaron’s sheer strength and unyielding posture, Neil had specialized in dual sword fighting, taking advantage of his speed and mobility. Ever since a blacksmith in Palmetto had forged his scimitars, his two curved short swords and weapon of choice, they were always strapped to his back, ready to be drawn at any moment.
> 
> Both the fighting style of dual wielding as well as the weaponry was relatively unknown where Neil came from. But Aaron had suggested it one day when they had been younger and, after trying them with Aaron’s help, Neil had immediately loved it.
> 
> Ever since that day, he never left his room without them.
> 
> Right now, though, he was seriously considering taking the harness holding his swords off to alleviate some of the tight fit of his uniform.
> 
> Millport was known as the desert kingdom, being located far to the west and going almost as far south as the Kingdom of Troy. Neil liked warmth but even he found the pressing heat in Millport too much. And the black, and annoyingly tight, uniform of Baltimore was not helping at all.
> 
> At least he wasn’t the only one suffering. Aaron next to him was once again wearing his usual outfit of dark leather pants and a dark brown leather vest stretching over his broad chest, fastened with simple brass buckles across the front and lined with reddish brown fox fur, over a beige long-sleeved woolen tunic. At least he had taken off some of his armor since he won his tournament the day before. Neil noticed that both the plated armor across his shoulders, engraved with golden metal leaves and branded with the insignia of Palmetto, and the heavy forearm braces that reached to his wrists and were made of thick dark brown leather were missing. A small concession to the brain melting temperatures.
> 
> Aaron’s worn brown boots, much heavier than Neil’s black ones, were tied more loosely than yesterday. His traditional fur cloak, that made Aaron look even broader than he already was, with its golden buckle that reminded Neil of the claws of a fox, was also notably absent today.
> 
> The fur was not quite a royal mantle but much fancier than Neil’s simple woolen cloak. He knew that his father hated Aaron’s cloak because there was no equivalent in their collection of royal garments to outdo Aaron whenever he arrived for the tournaments in Baltimore.
> 
> The memory of his father attempting to wear a wolf fur a couple years ago and the resulting scandal almost made Neil smile. Since then, Aaron made sure to always arrive in the full getup to the tournaments, no matter the place or temperature.
> 
> Some might call it petty, but Neil just thought it was hilarious. He almost wished Aaron would do it for all royal functions.
> 
> Then again, it always put his father in a bad mood which never boded well for Neil.
> 
> Next to Aaron in the grass was his longsword, while his crossbow and quiver with black arrows were still strapped to his back similar to Neil’s scimitars.
> 
> Aaron’s light blond hair, falling in a mix of braids and loose strands to his shoulders, was shining like a halo in the desert sun, drawing attention from the people walking by. He couldn’t blame them. Unlike Neil, Aaron radiated royalty even with his slightly patchy beard (Neil’s was even worse, so he didn’t make fun of Aaron) and simple brass clips in his hair.
> 
> Neil knew Aaron was melting on the inside but his face betrayed nothing aside from the subtle glare he was giving the cupcake, thick blond eyebrows bunched together the smallest amount over familiar brown eyes, as if daring the frosting to melt before he was finished.
> 
> Sitting next to each other, they quietly enjoyed the mayhem around them, watching the participants of the tournament as well as the spectators walking past them. Luckily, no one tried to talk to them—the people in the Kingdom of Millport believed in leaving royals alone.
> 
> A notion that would be unthinkable in other kingdoms.
> 
> “One day they’ll catch you and who will get me my food then?”
> 
> Neil scoffed at that ridiculous comment. “I’m too fast, they’ll never catch me.”
> 
> Aaron just grunted, mouth stuffed with pastry.
> 
> “I’m like smoke, here one moment, gone the next.”
> 
> Neil waved his hands in front of Aaron’s face, trying to make it look like the court magician that could make coins and pieces of fabric disappear. Judging on Aaron’s less than impressed look, he didn’t quite nail it.
> 
> Dropping his hands, he instead looked at Aaron imploringly. “Or maybe I’m just an imagination. In reality, you’re talking to yourself right now.” Cocking his head to the side, Neil added sagely, “Looking really stupid doing it, obviously.”
> 
> “Impossible. I would never imagine something so incredibly stupid,” was Aaron’s deadpan answer.
> 
> “Rude.”
> 
> At seeing Aaron’s lips twitch, Neil couldn’t help the smile spreading across his face.
> 
> With a content sigh, he let his gaze wander across the field, watching the many people milling about, before closing his eyes and tilting his face toward the sun. Next to him, Aaron shifted into a more comfortable position, mirroring Neil and leaning back on his hands, his left hand coming to rest against Neil’s in a barely-there point of contact, and legs stretched out in front of him.
> 
> Feeling the warmth from the sun on his face and Aaron’s hand next to his, Neil wished it was always tournament season.
> 
> _[end of memory]_

A cold draft hit Neil as he crossed an intersection of passageways, making him shiver despite the exertion. Someone must’ve opened the doors to the secret passages, allowing the icy wind from outside to penetrate the castle all the way to its innermost network of tunnels. He had tried to see if he could make out who else was making their way along the pathways but had crossed the intersection too fast to see anything or anyone in the dark.

Only very few servants joined him in the dark and narrow tunnels. Most didn’t even know they existed, while others dismissed them as claustrophobic and a death-trap.

True enough, sometimes doors canted due to age, forcing people to wander around, looking for a different way out. In addition, most people had to worry about a draft blowing out their torch and leaving them in total darkness, Neil thought as he pulled his light orb closer to his body.

_No one can ever know what you can do._

He could still hear his mother’s insistent voice in his head, repeating the words over and over, her fear and urgency almost a tangible thing that was pressing down on Neil, making him pull the shining orb even closer.

As small and compact as it was, the orb offered little more than enough light to illuminate a couple yards ahead of him. But it was enough. It had to be. If someone were to step into his path, he would have to be quick to absorb the light.

_No one can ever know._

Trusting a lifetime of learning these hidden pathways by heart, he jumped at the right moment, taking several stone steps down in one go, immediately continuing to run as soon as he landed.

Outside, trumpets signaled the entrance of the monarch.

_Fuck._

Finally reaching the hidden doorway close to the castle’s entrance, he quickly caught the light orb in his right hand and absorbed it back into his body, before pulling down his bandana and checking his weapons—his belt with rows of daggers and the harness strapped across his shoulders to hold his scimitars—as well as the small leather satchel hidden under his cloak with food and water for the journey.

Waiting for his breathing to stop sounding as if he was dying, he listened to the loud cheering coming from the crowd outside. People in the Kingdom of Baltimore did not cheer. The fact that they did, on the day of Neil’s sendoff to rescue the princess of a neighboring kingdom, spoke volumes.

Because, while his people loathed their king, they had always supported Neil. He wasn’t entirely sure why since it would be much easier to simply hate the entire royal family.

(Sometimes, people made no sense.)

Him leaving for a Royal Liberation, the most coveted achievement of a crown prince in all _Seven Revered Kingdoms_ , gave the people hope.

Hope that Neil would become king of Palmetto.

That he would come back to the Kingdom of Baltimore to take the throne from Nathan.

That he would bring freedom of movement, of thought, to this kingdom that had been locked in ice ever since Nathan had ascended the throne.

And, the most ridiculous hope Neil had heard whispers about, that he would find love with the mysterious princess of the south that no one had ever laid eyes on.

It was all very dramatic, if you asked Neil.

In his opinion, it seemed like a last battle cry born from desperation before the predator swallowed its victim whole. The thought alone of him challenging his father _and winning_ , was ridiculous.

At times, he wanted to believe that he could find allies to help him topple Nathan from his throne and release the kingdom from his iron fist. But for the most part, he had accepted that he would forever be nothing more than a pawn in other people’s games.

He was, and always had been, caught between glimmers of hope and the cold reality of resignation.

Taking a deep breath, he ran a hand through his hair to make himself look somewhat presentable. Feeling the tangles, he could tell that the braids the servants had meticulously worked into his shoulder-long hair this morning were a mess, the dark blue feathers of the Baltimore oriole probably all over the place.

Pushing back the strands of hair that had escaped the braids and were now sticking to his face after the run across the castle grounds, he knew it was hopeless. If Aaron could see him right now, Neil was sure he would be compared to an animal that had just crawled out of a hole. Or something equally flattering.

> _[memory]_
> 
> **_Kingdom of Columbia | Fall, 162 nd Year of Reverence | Day 8 of the 324th Royal Quarterly Tournament_ **
> 
> The sky was bright blue, September giving them a last warm day before fall turned into winter, letting the cold sweep over the land and burying the northern kingdoms in snow.
> 
> Not that they would have snow here in Columbia. At most they would get a barely visible dusting of white that would be gone the next day.
> 
> Not for the first time, Neil cursed the bitter cold winter days in the Kingdom of Baltimore.
> 
> The architecture of Baltimore castle did not help, either. With its high ceilings that never let any warmth take hold, flickering torches lining the dark and unrelenting walls in irregular intervals, and its small windows that barely let in any sunlight, perfecting the suffocating atmosphere that permeated throughout the castle grounds.
> 
> Across the field, the fall tournament was in full swing, Columbia hosting the festivities this time around before it would move to the kingdom of Troy for winter solstice. As always in Columbia, the tournament was set up with various areas rather than one compact field, allowing for the different disciplines to be under way at the same time.
> 
> People were milling about, peasants running along the outskirts, trying to recognize the royals from other kingdoms. Lords and ladies were strutting along the pathways in between arenas.
> 
> Looking around, Neil finally spotted Aaron on the other side of the fencing area, sitting on top of a little grassy hill. As always, he was decked out in the colors of Palmetto. Neil often made fun of him for his exaggerated outfits—Aaron didn’t even _like_ the colors—but couldn’t help admiring his absolute pride for his kingdom.
> 
> By comparison, Neil didn’t have a lot of love lost for his own home. He wore his black-on-black outfits with miniscule blue accents not to honor his kingdom but because he didn’t feel like getting beaten and kicked by his father for disrespecting him.
> 
> You see, Neil could be very pragmatic and sensible.
> 
> He quickly walked over to Aaron and sat down next to him, rolling his shoulders to relax the muscles after his recent fight.
> 
> He had won, moving on to the next round. Obviously.
> 
> And so had Aaron. Also obviously.
> 
> But since they had joined the adult competitions less than a year ago, it had been a lot harder. The fights dirtier.
> 
> It was also a lot more fun.
> 
> Neil turned his face upward to the sun, trying to commit the feeling of the sun on his face to his memory for when he would be stuck in Baltimore, the cold penetrating all rooms, all clothing, for months on end.
> 
> Neil much preferred the warmth. And while he didn’t need the endless heat of Troy or Millport or even the year-round warm temperatures of Columbia, he wouldn’t mind a couple hot moon cycles in summer and warm temperatures in spring and fall buffering mild winters.
> 
> Not for the first time, Neil asked himself why he had been born in the one kingdom that had nothing to offer other than snowy mountains and steep cliffs that chased icy wind across the kingdom all year-round.
> 
> Next to him, Aaron shifted, his thigh coming to rest against Neil’s in another point of welcome warmth, making Neil hum contently.
> 
> “And here I thought you Baltimorians couldn’t look any stupider.”
> 
> Neil looked at Aaron, eyebrows furrowed. “We’re not called Baltimorians.”
> 
> Aaron’s only response were his raised eyebrows, humor dancing in his eyes. They were a light brown, almost like honey.
> 
> It was a warm color.
> 
> Aaron must’ve noticed Neil’s confusion because his eyes quickly flicked to the top of his head before settling back on his face. Understanding dawned on Neil, his hands quickly reaching up to his hair.
> 
> They were up in a bun.
> 
> “Fucking Seth. His latest trick is to pull my hair to throw me off-balance.”
> 
> He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to explain himself. He knew Aaron had been there to watch—they never missed each other’s fights—so he must’ve seen Seth’s attempt to grab his hair.
> 
> He quickly unraveled the bun, letting his hair fall onto his shoulders and carding through the tresses with one hand. With how Aaron was looking at him, he was sure he hadn’t made the situation better.
> 
> “You look like a chicken that just barely escaped getting its feathers removed.”
> 
> “Well, not everyone is blessed with such pretty hair as you.” Grinning, Neil slowly reached out and carefully pulled on one of the braided strands that kept the shoulder-long hair out of Aaron’s face.
> 
> It was soft.
> 
> Aaron’s hair was always soft.
> 
> Neil had known that ever since he had touched it by accident when he had been only eleven years old and tried to remove a leaf from Aaron’s hair after a trip to the forest in Palmetto.
> 
> Back then, Aaron had stared in shock. Nowadays, though, Aaron merely hummed, watching Neil curling the blond braid around his finger. The fact that he didn’t immediately cut off Neil’s hand spoke volumes. Aaron, as a rule, did not like to be touched. He didn’t even allow his servants to do his braids, always doing them himself.
> 
> As far as Neil knew, he was the only exception.
> 
> Unlike Aaron, Neil couldn’t care less about how his own hair looked. He either let it fall free, with only few braids woven into them whenever he had to look somewhat official, or pulled it back in a ponytail and hidden under his hood when he was back in the cold hallways of Baltimore castle.
> 
> “It’s not the hair that is the problem.”
> 
> The insult lacked any heat, Aaron’s deep, raspy voice too warm to sting. In fact, the comment just made Neil smile.
> 
> “Well, are you going to do something about it?”
> 
> Rolling his eyes as if Neil was a major inconvenience, Aaron reached over and started to sort out the bird’s nest that Neil had created on top of his head. His fingers were gentle as he worked through the knots and straightened the braids that had been done by Neil’s manservant in the morning.
> 
> Neil let his hands drop to his lap as he watched Aaron, letting silence settle between them.
> 
> Aaron’s eyes were framed by thick, curled eyelashes, his eyebrows were drawn together in concentration. Thanks to the sunny weather in Palmetto, he had a tan almost all year-round. Neil, in contrast, always looked pale and washed-out.
> 
> Aaron also had faint freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks. When Neil had met Aaron, he hadn’t known that freckles were _a thing_. Shortly after, he had decided that he liked Aaron’s freckles.
> 
> He still did.
> 
> Whenever he could, he checked the constellations of little dots, making sure they were still there. He could swear they sometimes moved but his mother had explained to him that wasn’t possible.
> 
> It had become routine over the years, when he had a couple minutes with Aaron, to make sure there was still the little triangle near Aaron’s left eye, and the two dots near the tip of his nose.
> 
> Letting his eyes drift over Aaron’s face, knowing that nothing had changed, Neil felt instantly more settled, forgetting the mayhem around them.
> 
> As always, his eyes got caught on the lone freckle near the right corner of Aaron’s mouth. It was harder to detect ever since he had started to try growing a beard, but Neil always managed to find it anyway.
> 
> Aaron’s full lips were slightly open.
> 
> They looked soft.
> 
> Noticing that Aaron had stopped carding through his hair, Neil’s eyes snapped to Aaron’s, only to find them already on his.
> 
> After a beat, Aaron sighed, annoyed. “I hate you.”
> 
> _[end of memory]_

With a last and probably useless drag of his hand through his hair, Neil pushed the hidden door open and stepped into a side hallway close to the open-space entrance hall. Neil blinked against the light coming in through the small windows and shook his head to get rid of the unwanted memory.

After another deep breath, Neil made his way toward the entrance of the castle where a large gateway could be opened up to a massive stairway leading down into the courtyard that took you through the tiny village built around the southern side of the castle.

Walking into the entrance hall, he could see that the wooden door was still closed, keeping the people outside from seeing the cluster of people waiting on this side of the gate.

His father was standing in the middle of the hall, dressed similarly to Neil: Black with a hint of dark blue, a broad chest plate with scaled armor across his front and chain armor hanging over his shoulders even though he wouldn’t leave the castle today. The Baltimore insignia was branded into the leather armor covering his upper body and worked into meticulous scales, black leather plates protected his forearms, and dark blue feathers had been woven into his dark red hair.

Neil inconspicuously took up position next to his father. A glare promising pain made it clear that he had not missed Neil’s late arrival.

Oh well.

Standing quietly next to his father, the contrast despite the similar outfits and coloring of hair and eyes could not be more obvious. Nathan was, and always had been, an imposing person with his broad shoulders, strong jaw and cold eyes. His large hands were resting on his belt and the hilt of his longsword. Neil, in contrast, had inherited his mother’s slender figure.

As Aaron had pointed out years ago, he was built for agility, not endurance.

To Neil’s right was Nathan’s royal guard. Why his father felt the need to send Lola, the head of his guard, with Neil on his journey to the mountainside was beyond him. He could’ve done without that snake for several days in close proximity on the road.

And then there was Aaron.

He was standing on Nathan’s other side, dressed in the official colors of the Kingdom of Columbia, his new home and the sole kingdom he would rule over once a monarch had been found for Palmetto. Once Neil had rescued and married Aaron’s sister, the Princess of Palmetto, and acceded to the throne of Palmetto to become their new king.

At least that was the plan, Neil thought as he took note of Aaron’s outfit matching the green and white dress of his wife Katelyn next to him.

The green looked wrong on Aaron.

The large reddish fox fur draped over Aaron’s shoulders was clearly meant to pacify the people of Palmetto, but in Neil’s eyes it seemed more like a souvenir than anything else. Aaron usually didn’t wear full furs unless he needed it for warmth or to annoy Neil’s father during tournaments. And even then, he tended to go for the smaller version that merely covered his broad shoulders.

In the Kingdom of Palmetto, foxes were revered, loved. Only the bravest foxes were used for clothing, their fur supposedly bestowing their owner with the strength of the animal. Aaron always said that he didn’t need a dead animal around his shoulders to feel strong.

Right now, Aaron looked as if he wanted nothing more than to pull the fur over his head and hide.

Neil tried to catch Aaron’s eyes, but he just stared ahead, as if completely oblivious to Neil’s presence.

Asshole.

After all, it was Aaron’s fault that they were here. And now he couldn’t even look Neil in the eye?

He wasn’t even sure why Aaron thought Neil would be a good king for Palmetto. He should know better than anyone else just how much of a disaster Neil could be.

Taking another deep breath, Neil told himself for the umpteenth time that he wouldn’t complain. After all, maybe this way, once he took the crown of Palmetto, he would get to spend more time with Aaron again.

If you asked Neil, that was the only upside he could see to this whole ordeal.

Also, getting away from his murderous father, of course. But mostly Aaron.

Standing in front of the wooden doors, listening to the cheering crowds outside and the drum and trumpets getting louder with every beat, Neil ignored the hateful glances he got from the royal guard to his right and the disgust for his failure of a son emanating from his father on his left.

He could deal with hate.

He wasn’t sure how well he could deal with Aaron ignoring him, though.

Once again glancing past Nathan, he barely recognized his best not-friend.

Because they couldn’t be friends. Neil still didn’t understand why but Aaron had told him, when they had been six years old and clueless to the intricacies of the court politics, that they could never be friends and that Neil should never talk to him first when others were around during formal events. And Neil always respected Aaron’s wishes.

He would never want to make his best friend uncomfortable.

So they weren’t friends.

But that didn’t explain why Aaron always had to be so snotty and standoffish during royal festivities and diplomatic gatherings.

Neil didn’t get it.

And ever since Aaron had married Katelyn, they’d barely talked. And now Neil had to marry Aaron’s sister, while his father waited for him to fail and die.

Honestly, sometimes Neil wondered why Nathan couldn’t just kill him, so they’d be done with this whole ordeal.

Ugh.

Who even was this weird princess? No one had ever seen her. Or spoken to her. No one even knew her fucking name.

Fucking weird.

How was that even possible with how much gossip always made it through the kingdoms.

Just as Neil was throwing another hopeful, but rejected, glance toward Aaron, the doors finally opened, the noise increasing tenfold.

Faced with the people of their kingdom, Neil felt their excitement and hope roll over him in a thunderous wave. Standing on top of the black stone staircase and looking across the masses of men, women and small children, all waving their hands or little flags as if this was a true celebration, Neil was at once paralyzed, mind drawing a blank at all the voices crushing into him, urging him to perform a miracle.

Nathan stepped forward and, with a single lift of his hand, silenced the crowd.

The sudden absence of noise was as bone-crushing as the cheering had been.

“People of Baltimore.” Nathan’s deep voice rang out loud and clear, laced with the familiar traces of disdain. “I have given the permission for my son to take part in the Royal Liberation of the Princess of Palmetto.”

A smatter of applause and cheers interrupted Nathan. Neil was certain the people responsible would not see another sunrise.

“He will travel to the mountainside to fulfill his duty. I accept that Nathaniel will only be allowed to accede to the throne once he has proven himself stronger than the strongest creatures on earth.”

As if they knew his father was talking about them, two lone dragons flew across the sky, high enough to be nothing more than specks in the distance. Nonetheless, a hushed whisper went through the crowd. In other kingdoms, dragons were revered for their strength. In Baltimore, they were hated for their unpredictability and hunted for glory. As a result, it was rare to see them in this corner of the land.

Watching the dragons above, Neil wished he could join them. High in the sky, far away from the monsters that waited on the ground.

“Shall he fail to rescue the princess and bring her safely to the castle of Palmetto within one moon cycle’s time, he will resign from his duties as crown prince, no longer eligible to serve as king,” Nathan paused, almost making Neil roll his eyes at the drama of it all, “as is the law.”

This time around, Nathan welcomed the renewed cheering, reveling in the chanting of his people celebrating him for his trust in his son’s abilities.

Bastard.

As if Nathan’s plan hadn’t always been to overtake Palmetto in order to combine both kingdoms and finally become competitive against the other, much larger kingdoms. As if he hadn’t already manipulated this Liberation as much as possible by agreeing to Aaron’s request only to withdraw once the princess had left the castle of Palmetto, setting the deadline of the current moon cycle into stone.

Only after several days of decisive negotiations between the two kings behind closed doors had Nathan agreed once more; after he had taken precious time off the timeframe to accomplish the task, knowing that if Neil didn’t bring home the princess on time, neither of them would be allowed to rule a kingdom, not their own, nor another one, and thus eliminating any chances of Neil challenging him for the throne of Baltimore.

Aaron had always refused his father’s offer to merge their kingdoms, protective over his territory. Neil didn’t understand why he had changed his mind and was now essentially inviting Nathan into his kingdom.

Standing on the top of the stairs, taking deep, calming breaths, Neil could still feel where his father had bruised his ribs the night before when he hadn’t agreed fast enough to handing over Palmetto, his left wrist still throbbing from where Nathan had held onto him, dragging him across his room.

Neil was surprised that Nathan let him go at all. He was probably hoping that Neil would die fighting the dragon, the time restriction nothing more than a contingency plan. Little did Nathan know that the dragon would not be the only beast fighting.

_Never tell anyone what you can do._

His mother’s voice rang in Neil’s ears, the memory of seeing her explode into a million stars before softly landing on the ground as the most majestic creature on earth. He could still remember the swirls of smoke curling up from her nostrils, dark brown scales covering her strong body and leathery wings spreading out before catapulting her into the air where other dragons were already circling.

It had only taken him a moment to join them, his hand shortly resting on the crudely carved wooden dragon amulet around his neck before taking shape in his new body, still small and much less confident up in the sky. But even when air currents had pushed him from side to side, when his muscles had strained to keep him going forward, he had never felt more free then when he was up in the sky.

_It is a curse. And people will never accept those who are cursed._

His mother’s harsh words pulled Neil from his thoughts. To him, his powers had never felt like a curse.

Until he had seen his mother die because of mere rumors.

Letting his eyes drift across the crowd before him, Neil had to fight to keep his face neutral. To not let them see just how much they had taken from him. With their unsubstantiated whispers and inane chatter for no other reason than because they were bored.

_The queen is an evil witch._

_She cursed the Kingdom of Baltimore._

_We will all suffer because of her._

The rumors, of course, had not actually killed Queen Mary.

No. Queen Mary had died because the king had decided that she had to go.

Unsubstantiated and untrue as the rumors had been, they had been nothing more than a mere ploy to justify the death of Neil’s mother.

Neil blinked against the memory of flying next to his mother. Of losing her at only ten years of age.

While staring unseeingly ahead, he noticed movement to his left. Aaron had shifted to look at Katelyn next to him, sharing the smallest of nods with her.

This was _fine_.

If Neil could take the hate, he could take being ignored by Aaron.

By all means, it should be the far easier task.

> _[memory]_
> 
> **_Kingdom of Troy | Summer, 159th Year of Reverence | Day 3 of the 311th Royal Quarterly Tournament_ **
> 
> Aaron was glaring into the middle distance, probably melting in his outfit. The long-sleeved linen tunic would’ve been enough in the heat of the Kingdom of Troy, but in typical Aaron fashion, he was also wearing his leather vest, leather pants with protective plates covering his thighs that Neil knew were purely ornamental—Aaron always took them off before his fights—and the familiar fox fur lining his collar.
> 
> Neil had thought Aaron would come to his senses after he had first started to wear his kingdom’s traditional clothing, which was completely impracticable for most everyday situation, to the tournaments in a show of pride. But at 15 years, Neil was still waiting for commonsense to set in.
> 
> At this point, he had mostly given up and accepted the fact that he would always have to look for a spot in the shade for the two of them.
> 
> Not that Neil minded. He really didn’t need the crowds at these events. Plus, if Neil was honest, Aaron looked really impressive in his royal getup.
> 
> Looking down at himself, the sleek black leather and dark blue accents of his outfit certainly did nothing to make him look strong and intimidating. Maybe he should start wearing elaborate armor or something. The tight fit of his clothes wasn’t helping either. According to their cook at home, he looked like a beanstock. And not even a tall one.
> 
> At least Aaron was just as short as Neil, even if he was much broader and intimidating than Neil could ever hope to look like. Their height was emphasized by the fact that they both had to look up to Jean and Jeremy, the latter chatting a mile a minute, beaming even brighter than he usually did.
> 
> Jean, next to him, was quiet (as always) but looked happy. Looking more closely at the relaxed frown lines on his forehead and the small smile on his lips, Neil thought he looked as if a massive weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
> 
> The move from the Kingdom of Evermore to Troy had clearly been good for him.
> 
> For a long time, Neil had been worried about his friend who had been stuck in the castle of Evermore, sold as a kid to the royal family to pay off his parents’ debt.
> 
> Listening to Jeremy going on about the latest adventure of him and Jean riding across the territory of Troy, Neil couldn’t help but be glad that Jeremy had bought Jean’s freedom as soon as he had acceded to the throne of Troy, taking his father’s place despite his young age.
> 
> Neil wasn’t sure why Jeremy had made the decision to free Jean but was thankful, nonetheless.
> 
> While Jeremy went off on a tangent on the wolf population in Troy, Neil quickly took the opportunity and asked Jean in a low voice, “How are you?”
> 
> Surprised to be addressed in the middle of Jeremy’s tale of their adventure, it took a moment for Jean’s eyes to snap from Jeremy’s wild hand gestures to Neil.
> 
> After a moment, though, the small smile settled more firmly on his face. In a quiet voice, he responded, “Good, Nathaniel. It is good now.”
> 
> With a huff, Aaron impatiently pulled on the straps across his chest, as if tightening the quiver and crossbow more firmly in place on his back.
> 
> Looking back at Jean, Neil tried to focus on his friend telling him about his life in Troy, Jeremy’s excited chatter nothing but background noise.
> 
> Another grunt had Neil’s attention straying once more to Aaron. Maybe the heat was getting to him? They should probably get out of the sun.
> 
> “You have wolves in your kingdom, right, Aaron?” Hearing Aaron’s name had Neil looking from Aaron to Jeremy, tuning back into the story. “Maybe we could talk about how you manage to let them roam freely without them eating your livestock. That would be a great help for the people of Troy.”
> 
> “I don’t care,” came Aaron’s short answer, voice dismissive.
> 
> Looking from one to the other, Neil could see that Aaron’s tone had taken Jeremy by surprise, more than the actual dismissal.
> 
> “Uhm,” Neil was suddenly faced with two sets of raised eyebrows, Aaron grumbling to himself and looking the other direction. “It’s getting really hot out in the sun, I think I’m going to look for a spot in the shade. Aaro—”
> 
> Before he could even finish the sentence, Aaron had already grabbed his wrist and was dragging him across the field to a cluster of trees in the distance.
> 
> Once settled down in the shade, Aaron leaned against one of the trees and stared straight ahead, ignoring Neil next to him.
> 
> In an attempt to get more comfortable, Neil stretched out his legs, feeling sand moving in his boots, sticking to his feet.
> 
> “I think I'm already carrying half the beach around with me,” Neil said, looking from his boots to the miles and miles of beaches in the distance.
> 
> Aaron next to him huffed, not taking his eyes off the shoreline where waves were rolling over the sand before tapering out.
> 
> “You're complaining about a single grain of sand. Try dealing with a universe of beaches.”
> 
> Neil rolled his eyes at Aaron's dramatics and bumped his shoulder against Aaron’s but otherwise let him be for now.
> 
> After several minutes of silence, Neil carefully asked, “Is everything okay? You didn’t seem comfortable, so I thought maybe we should look for a spot in the shade.”
> 
> Another huff and a long pause later, Aaron finally looked at Neil. “Sorry that I took you away from _Jean_. Didn’t know you were so close.”
> 
> If Neil didn’t know better, he would say that Aaron was angry. But that couldn’t be. Aaron had told Neil multiple times that anger was a useless emotion.
> 
> “It’s okay,” Neil said, figuring the truth would probably be the best way to go. “I’d rather be here with you anyway.”
> 
> Aaron merely rolled his eyes but after another couple minutes, Neil could tell that it had been a good idea to get out of the sun when Aaron’s mood improved significantly.
> 
> _[end of memory]_

Staring at the cloudy sky over Baltimore, the bright sunshine of Troy was nothing more than a distant memory.

From the corner of his eye he could see that Aaron was still turned away from him, the fur somehow making him look hunched over and small.

Neil hated it.

Aaron’s hair was pulled back in a ponytail, a long braid falling over his right shoulder.

Neil furrowed his eyebrows, thinking about how Aaron hated it when he had to wear his hair in a full braid. At least he used to hate it.

Just as the dragons above started another circle around the castle, Neil saw Katelyn reaching out with her hand to Aaron. It was small and dainty, no traces of a single day of hard work.

Neil wanted to scoff at Katelyn’s naivety of thinking Aaron would ever accept such blatant display of closeness in public, but the derisive sound got stuck in his throat when Aaron took Katelyn’s hand in his with no hesitation.

Watching them clasp each other’s hand, something so irritatingly intimate, felt as if a boulder from the highest mountains of Baltimore had settled on Neil’s chest, making it hard to breathe.

Blinking quickly, Neil looked out at the crowd before him, trying to focus on the mass of people cheering at his fate with no clue of how badly the odds were already stacked against him.

He ignored the small smile Katelyn gave Aaron, didn’t want to think of Aaron maybe returning it.

Katelyn didn’t _deserve_ Aaron’s smile. It had taken Neil _years_ until Aaron had smiled at him openly. Had trusted Neil with his thoughts and honest opinions. With little touches and whispered truths.

What had Katelyn ever done? She wouldn’t stand a chance in a fight, with her slender figure and perfect shiny hair and doe eyes and smooth, tan skin. And she would be terrible in a negotiation, with her inane rambling and high-pitched giggling.

Swallowing hard, Neil curled his fingers into fists at his side, feeling the leather of his gloves scrunching, his blunt fingernails digging into gloved palms, where ugly scars, spreading from his hands to his chest and back and all the way to his hips and thighs, were hidden from view. Souvenirs from a life of pain and torture.

A life this _person_ , standing there in her extravagant dress and clueless smile, demanding Aaron’s attention, couldn’t even imagine. A life she had never had to fight for to be allowed to even _live_.

Taking a deep breath, welcoming the stinging pain from his ribs, Neil told himself that it was _okay_.

He and Aaron weren’t friends. And they never had been. So it’s not as if Neil had lost something when Aaron had chosen Katelyn.

> _[memory]_
> 
> **_Kingdom of Angels | Summer, 163rd Year of Reverence | Day 1 of the 327th Royal Quarterly Tournament_ **
> 
> Across the ballroom, Aaron was standing next to Katelyn, neither of them looking particularly happy to be there. Aaron looked mostly indifferent, Katelyn looked uncomfortable.
> 
> It almost made Neil smile. Aaron probably just wanted the night to be over so the summer tournament could start the next day.
> 
> “Strange, I would’ve thought they would look happier.”
> 
> Neil turned around at hearing Jeremy’s voice, raising his eyebrows at his friend.
> 
> “Now that they’re engaged?”
> 
> That had Neil stopping short. “They’re what?”
> 
> Jeremy rolled his eyes at Neil. “How do you never know these things?”
> 
> “What do you mean? They’re not engaged, Aaron would’ve told me.”
> 
> Jeremy looked at Neil incredulously, something akin to pity creeping into his eyes.
> 
> “Neil, it means they’re in love.”
> 
> Neil’s eyes snapped back to Aaron who was still standing near the front, waiting to be announced by the court marshal.
> 
> “I was in Palmetto the other day and those two were completely in love. It was a bit embarrassing, to be honest.”
> 
> Neil had always been jealous of the other monarchs who could travel freely across the land and visit other kingdoms. But maybe, if that was what a visit to Palmetto was like these days, he no longer wanted that privilege.
> 
> Watching Aaron step forward at hearing his name, ignoring not only the lords and ladies of the Kingdom of Angels but also Katelyn by his side, Neil couldn’t fathom that Jeremy was right.
> 
> Surely, Aaron would’ve told him if he was interested in someone _like that_ , right?
> 
> _[end of memory]_

The trumpets going off in another rendition of the royal announcement had Neil startle to attention.

He no longer wanted to be here. He hadn’t wanted to be here in the first place, but now he _definitely_ didn’t want to be here. The crowd in front of him was getting on his nerves. He wanted them to shut up.

And fuck those trumpets.

Just then, Aaron stepped forward, causing another raucous round of cheering before he managed to calm them down by waving his arms several times. He seemed stiff and uncomfortable. His stance unsure and nervous.

Neil remembered how he had confronted Aaron after Jeremy had told him about the engagement.

Back then, Aaron had told him that he didn’t care about Katelyn.

And Neil had believed him.

Because Aaron never lied. At least not to Neil.

“I want to give my endless thanks to King Nathan of Baltimore. I hereby promise a place in my family and the crown of the Kingdom of Palmetto to the Crown Prince of Baltimore upon successfully bringing the most important member of my family home.

“We put all our faith into the hands of Crown Prince Nathaniel and are looking forward to welcoming him to the Kingdom of Palmetto before the start of the next moon cycle.”

The crowd once more erupted in cheers, their excitement at being a part of a Royal Liberation too big to be contained. Above them, a single dragon continued circling the sky, as if taunting Neil with its sheer presence.

At last, a carriage was pulled up in front of the stairs, several yards away from where the peasants were confined by rails in order to not storm the castle.

Neil could almost feel his father’s glare drilling into the side of his scull as if it was a tangible thing, ready to push him down the steps, daring him to fall. On his father’s other side, Aaron’s doubt was rolling off him in waves, staining Neil’s boots and crawling up his legs.

Next to Aaron was a group of advisers with Lord Luther, the former regent of Palmetto, standing at the front and watching Neil with contempt.

Distrust. Hate. Disgust.

None of those things were new to Neil.

This wasn’t even the most cruel goodbye he had ever received, Neil thought bitterly as he walked down the long staircase to his carriage, flanked by Nathan’s royal guard.

> _[memory]_
> 
> **_Kingdom of Baltimore | Winter, 163rd Year of Reverence | Day 10 of the 329th Royal Quarterly Tournament_ **
> 
> “Neil.”
> 
> Neil quickly turned at hearing Aaron’s voice. He was standing next to a large column in the entrance hall of Neil’s home castle, to the side from everyone else. The first guests had already left the premises, the others waiting for their carriages to take them away until they would meet again at the next tournament.
> 
> “Hey, I wondered where you had gone earlier.”
> 
> Aaron just shrugged, the warm clothes and thick fox fur hanging off his shoulders moving with the movement. He didn’t offer an explanation why he had abruptly left in the morning after he and Neil had watched the final fight of the jousting tournament (a truly odd sport neither of them really understood).
> 
> Walking over to his best friend, Neil stopped next to the column.
> 
> “I…,” Aaron paused. Neil couldn’t remember when Aaron had ever had to search for the right words. He looked serious.
> 
> At closer inspection, Neil realized that Aaron looked _nervous_.
> 
> “Is everything alright?”
> 
> “Yes.” Another pause, followed by a deep sigh. “I just wanted to say bye.”
> 
> “Uhm,” Neil furrowed his brows at Aaron. “Okay? I’ll see you in a couple weeks, right?”
> 
> Aaron looked away, the movement unsettling. Neil could see Aaron’s jaw working, tension spreading through his entire frame as he continued to watch the guests near the entrance hall behind Neil, eyes seemingly refusing to return to Neil’s.
> 
> “Aaron?”
> 
> Neil didn’t understand the pained grimace that pulled on Aaron’s face. Had Neil done something wrong?
> 
> “I won’t be participating in any more tournaments.”
> 
> _What?_
> 
> “Why?”
> 
> The tournaments were their _thing_.
> 
> Another deep sigh. “I just won’t, okay? The Kingdom of Columbia doesn’t allow their monarchs to participate.”
> 
> “The Kingdom of—” Neil could feel his stomach drop. Shocked, he stared at Aaron. “You’re seriously marrying her.”
> 
> It wasn’t a question.
> 
> And Aaron didn’t answer.
> 
> After several beats, Aaron finally met Neil’s eyes. Wordlessly, he shrugged.
> 
> Just then, Aaron’s name was called from behind Neil, announcing his carriage to be ready.
> 
> After another tense moment, Aaron finally broke the eye contact and walked past Neil, his soft fur cloak grazing Neil’s arm.
> 
> Neil was rooted to the floor, unable to move long after all guests had left, feeling as if something had been ripped away from him. Looking down at himself, breathing unsteady, he couldn’t fathom how there was no blood, no open wounds, no echoes of screams in his head.
> 
> How was that possible when he had never been in more pain?
> 
> _[end of memory]_

As fast as he could, Neil climbed into the carriage and forced himself to look straight ahead as they rode out of the court and onto the pathway that would take them through the mountainous terrain to the border of the Kingdom of Palmetto.

Next to him, Lola got comfortable by spreading out her legs, essentially cutting off Neil from taking up any significant amount of space in the small carriage.

Her smirk was knowing, gleeful. Neil decided to ignore her.

Turning his head away from Lola, he looked out the window to see they were entering the dark forest with its large trees and thick treetops that kept even what little sun they got in Baltimore from reaching the forest ground, leaving the earth barren.

Unwillingly, the sight outside had the memory of the forest in Palmetto, green and always full of life, come to Neil’s mind. Aaron had taken him several times, showing him his favorite spots: from the wide clearing covered in wildflowers to the darkest parts where wolves lived and hunted.

He wondered if the princess ever left the castle. Or her room, for that matter.

Not for the first time, Neil wondered what he had gotten himself into—being sent off to rescue a person no one had ever even seen.

All Neil knew was that the princess and Aaron were twins. It made the kingdom, as with all unusual things, vulnerable to attacks; from other kingdoms but also their own people. After all, children were supposed to be born at least twelve moon cycles apart from each other to avoid any abnormalities.

_A kingdom needs to provide balance. Nothing can be allowed to upset the balance._

The words from ancient scriptures, dating back to the old ages and providing guidance and warning in one, had been drilled into Neil’s head from an early age, being taught to all members of the court and indoctrinated until no one could ever forget them.

Neil had the suspicion that they came from the same idiots who had come up with the Royal Liberation. Pretentious phrases seemed to be their thing.

At least Palmetto had been spared by the curse of siblings of the same gender. By comparison, twins seemed almost harmless.

_It is a curse. And people will never accept those who are cursed._

Neil wondered what the people of Palmetto would say if they knew that by inviting him into their kingdom, they were inviting a cursed one.

Staring out the window into the dark forest, the thought almost made him smile.

> _[memory]_
> 
> **_Kingdom of Baltimore | Fall, 164th Year of Reverence_ **
> 
> Walking down the dark hallway to one of the side entrances so he could sneak out for a couple hours, Neil saw Aaron coming through said entrance.
> 
> He was dressed in his official clothes with an ornate fur hanging off one shoulder. It seemed as if the fur should’ve made him look more imposing, especially given his naturally broad stature, but instead it seemed to swallow him whole.
> 
> “Aaron?” Neil quickly walked over, smiling at the unexpected surprise. He hadn’t talked to Aaron since last winter when Aaron had told him about his engagement.
> 
> Since then, Neil had decided to forget that conversation had ever happened. It worked, for the most part.
> 
> If Neil expected Aaron to be happy to see him, though, he was sourly mistaken. In fact, when Aaron looked up and spotted Neil coming toward him, Neil could’ve sworn he saw annoyance flit over Aaron’s face.
> 
> But that didn’t make sense.
> 
> “Nathaniel,” came Aaron’s lackluster greeting.
> 
> _Oh_. Belatedly Neil remembered that they were in an official setting. Looking around them, only a handful of Palmetto guards were securing a small perimeter around Aaron, probably listening closely to their conversation.
> 
> Still, using his full name seemed a bit much.
> 
> Taking a cautious step back, Neil lowered his voice, “I didn’t know you were coming, is everything okay?”
> 
> Aaron’s eyes were wrong. His nose, too. And his forehead looked too wrinkly. Neil knew he was only imagining these things, the light playing tricks on him.
> 
> It was still annoying.
> 
> After several beats of uneasy silence, Aaron cleared his throat and seemed to steel himself.
> 
> Neil didn’t even care why he was here—it had been almost nine moon cycles since they had seen each other, so Neil would take _anything_.
> 
> “I am here to ask that you marry my sibling and accede to the throne of Palmetto.”
> 
> _What_.
> 
> Maybe ‘anything’ had not been the right word, after all.
> 
> “Uhm,” Neil tried to make sense of what Aaron had just said. “I… If… you are in trouble, I’m sure I can help.”
> 
> Aaron rolled his eyes as if already tired of Neil, and repeated, “Like I said, I need you to marry my sibling and become king of my kingdom.”
> 
> Neil couldn’t help the smile. “Since when do you need anything?”
> 
> The joke did not land. In fact, it resulted in a grimace full of disdain that Neil had never seen coming from Aaron, much less have it directed at him.
> 
> “This is not the time for your weird jokes, Nathaniel. Just do it.”
> 
> Neil did not appreciate the tone. Before his stupid marriage to Katelyn, Aaron would’ve never spoken to Neil like this.
> 
> “Aaron… I don’t know her. I can’t just marry—”
> 
> “King Aaron of Columbia.”
> 
> At hearing his father’s cold voice, Neil turned around and saw Nathan strut toward them.
> 
> Looking back at Aaron it was as if Neil had turned into air, Aaron no longer paying any attention to him.
> 
> Without another glance in Neil’s direction, Aaron walked toward Nathan. Together, they disappeared into one of the sitting rooms.
> 
> Looking around himself, he noticed Aaron’s guards watching him, seemingly sizing him up. Not in the mood for the weird mix of pity and interest, he walked past them and vanished through the side door and out into the village.
> 
> He was not some gullible idiot that blindly followed orders.
> 
> He was _not_ going to marry a person just because someone said so.
> 
> Not even if that someone was Aaron.
> 
> _[end of memory]_

* * *

Neil was an idiot.

Looking around himself, watching the campsite being setup for their first night, barely thirty miles away from the castle, Neil realized his mistake.

He had thought that his father would simply wait for him to die or fail by himself.

Stupid.

All day, they had been moving much slower than should be possible, costing them precious time on their way to the mountainside.

And just like that, Lola being in charge of managing the journey made a lot more sense.

Taking in the sheer number of wagons and horses, not to mention the twenty people walking around the campsite, he knew that no one needed that many people and that much equipment for what was supposed to be a simple three-day trip.

While the servants got busy lighting a fire and preparing food for everyone, the sky was turning into a dark blue, Baltimore too far north to retain any sunlight into the early evening hours.

Once he had grabbed some food, Neil quietly walked off, making sure that no one followed him.

On the outskirts of the campsite, he saw Lola standing with a handful of guards, seemingly debriefing everyone.

“Today went well but we need to stretch the daily distances further. Make sure to control your wagons accordingly.”

_Lovely._

Conspiring against the crown prince was called treason in some kingdoms. Here, it was apparently approved by the king.

> _[memory]_
> 
> **_Kingdom of Baltimore | Fall, 164th Year of Reverence_ **
> 
> Staring out across the landscape, from the steep cliffs in the east to the mountains in the west, Neil watched the fog drifting over the land, making everything seem hazy and unreal.
> 
> From his perch on the windowsill of the highest tower of Baltimore castle, feet dangling in the air, he could see people running around on the ground, anxious to provide the best service to the _King of Columbia_.
> 
> Neil couldn’t believe that Aaron had already dropped ‘Palmetto’ from his royal title.
> 
> Burying his nose into his bandana and pulling his hood further down to help against the icy wind that was whipping through the open windows of the tower, Neil thought back to Aaron melting in his stupid Palmetto get-up at pretty much every tournament. Always appearing irrevocably proud of his home.
> 
> Asshole.
> 
> Turning his eyes to the cloudy sky, Neil let the freezing air suck the oxygen from his lungs, leaving him as unfeeling as the stone statues carved into the tower around him.
> 
> Deep inside the castle, his father was currently signing Neil’s life over to Aaron. After several days of tumultuous negotiations, Neil no longer cared.
> 
> Ever since Aaron had gotten engaged to Katelyn, Neil had wondered what would happen to Palmetto. With only a princess left in Palmetto and Aaron fucked off to Columbia, not allowed to rule two kingdoms at once, they needed a royal to accede to the throne. Not in a million moon cycles would Neil have thought that he would be the poor soul tasked to marry that rumor of a person and reign over the people of Palmetto.
> 
> Thinking back to Aaron’s pride when stepping into the arena during the tournaments, showing the fox insignia of his home to the entire land, Neil wondered how Aaron felt about leaving his kingdom— _his home_ —to Neil.
> 
> Neil wished women were allowed to rule a kingdom. Then the princess could take over the Kingdom of Palmetto, find herself someone who she actually liked, and Neil would be left alone. Problem solved.
> 
> But, no. Those fucking old geezers from the old ages had decided that only men should rule. Where was their precious balance in that decision?
> 
> Should Neil ever become king, he would support King Hernandez of Millport in making female royals eligible to claim the throne, knowing princess Sara and her fiancée would make for incredible rulers once Hernandez stepped down.
> 
> First, though, he would have to survive the stupid Royal Liberation—even the name was stupid—and rescue this princess person from a dragon. And make it to Palmetto on time.
> 
> Neil wasn’t concerned about the dragon. In fact, going up against the largest and most dangerous creatures on this earth was the least of his worries.
> 
> As it turned out, time might be the far bigger issue. All thanks to Nathan.
> 
> Shaking his head at his father’s obvious manipulation, Neil couldn’t believe that Nathan had already managed to decimate the time frame to three weeks before Neil had even left the castle.
> 
> Thinking about the length to which his father was willing to go just so Neil would lose his claim to a throne and could no longer challenge him was laughable. Everyone knew that Neil would never be able to win against his father; growing up under the thumb of Nathan had made sure that Neil would never be a successful challenger.
> 
> Still, even if it was absurd, the manipulation from his father did not come as a surprise.
> 
> What had been a surprise, though, was the fact that his father wasn’t the only one doing his best to make Neil fail.
> 
> Mere hours after Nathan had rescinded from the agreement, Neil had seen a lone figure arriving in the dark of night. It had turned out to be Luther, the former regent of Palmetto and close adviser and uncle to Aaron. A shady person if Neil had ever seen one.
> 
> But rather than working in Aaron’s interest, Neil had seen him feeding information to the royal guard of Baltimore.
> 
> Neil tried to stay out of it—clearly no one was listening to him anyway—but knowing the castle inside out did have its advantages. Mainly, that no one knew when they were being watched or listened to.
> 
> _“I need to talk to the king. I have confidential information he will most certainly be interested in.”_
> 
> Shifty fucker.
> 
> Neil had tried to tell Aaron, but he had merely stared at Neil before quickly walking off.
> 
> _“You’re seeing things, Nathaniel.”_
> 
> At least Aaron was still the same strategic genius that Neil had witnessed glimpses of over the last couple years during diplomatic meetings. So, even though it had taken a week, Aaron had finally gotten Nathan to agree once again.
> 
> Neil wasn’t sure what concessions had been necessary. All he knew was that tomorrow he would be sent off to the mountains.
> 
> To rescue a person, he didn’t know.
> 
> To rule a kingdom, he didn’t deserve.
> 
> To die quickly and quietly, if his father got his wish.
> 
> _[end of memory]_

Walking through the dark forest, dried moss covering the ground in sparse patches and absorbing the noise of his steps, Neil made sure to put significant distance between himself and the campsite.

Above him, stars slowly appeared in the night sky.

_Without the dark, we'd never see the stars._

He could still hear Aaron’s quiet voice murmuring those words, could still see him pointing out constellations in the sky and explaining their meaning.

They had been sitting in the garden of Palmetto castle after a long day during tournament week when Neil had been 16 years old, their arms brushing against each other with every movement and Aaron’s voice the only sound in the quiet night.

Trying, but failing, to find the same constellations in the sky above him, Neil kept walking further away from the campsite. Only when he was sure that he was far enough away did he turn around himself several times, listening to the noises of the forest to make sure no one had followed him.

To his side, several squirrels chased across the forest ground and up a nearby tree. With barely a thought, he imagined the tiny animal in his mind.

A moment later, he fell to the ground, his bushy tail helping him stand upright as he found his balance.

> _[memory]_
> 
> **_Kingdom of Baltimore | Fall, 164th Year of Reverence_ **
> 
> Neil stared at the ground where he was kneeling, bent forward with one hand braced against the cold stone to hold him up. The other was holding his aching ribs where his father had thrown him against the wall, his wrist probably sprained from his father’s tight grip.
> 
> Around him, flickering torches lined the walls of his father’s sitting room.
> 
> Nathan was standing in front of him, towering over him.
> 
> “I asked,” his voice was quiet, threatening, “if you understood.”
> 
> Neil swallowed hard, trying to think past the pain pulsing through his upper body, his knees hurting from the impact when he had fallen down, his wrist throbbing.
> 
> “Yes, father.”
> 
> Yes, Neil understood that he would have to hand over the Kingdom of Palmetto once he had acceded to the throne and become the reigning monarch.
> 
> Yes, he understood that his father planned for him to lose against the dragon, either dying or losing and becoming a disgraced monarch.
> 
> Yes, he understood that his failure would also make the princess ineligible for a royal wedding, essentially making Palmetto a king-less kingdom and opening the door for Nathan.
> 
> Kneeling on the ground, every breath painful, Neil had no idea what he should hope for.
> 
> A quick death by dragon?
> 
> Handing a kingdom over to his father and plunging them into the darkness of Baltimore?
> 
> “Get out of my sight.”
> 
> Nodding, Neil stood up as fast as his body would allow and, head bowed, left the room to retreat to his own chamber.
> 
> _[end of memory]_

With a last glance in the direction of the campsite in the distance, the campfire visible through the bare trees, Neil ran off, dashing up a tree and chasing the other squirrels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literary references in this chapter thanks to Palmetto library:
> 
> “Do I love you? My God, if your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches.” – The Princess Bride by William Goldman
> 
> “I like the night. Without the dark, we'd never see the stars.” –Twilight by Stephenie Meyer


	3. Chapter 3 – POV Neil

**Kingdom of Baltimore | Fall, 164 th Year of Reverence **

In the morning, Neil easily followed the scent of the campsite to find his way back. He was joined by several other squirrels, running around the camp, up and down the trees, watching the sleeping men and women of his caravan.

Once back out of eyesight, Neil shifted back into his human form. The shift into the much larger body sucked up a lot of his energy, a shimmer of light particles swirling around him for only the blink of an eye and leaving him slightly lethargic for a short moment.

After stretching for a couple minutes, Neil pulled his cloak and hood tighter around himself before trudging back to the campsite.

By the time he reached the small cluster of tents, some of the servants were already busy making breakfast and packing up the camp.

One by one, though, they were approached by a royal guard and significantly slowed down their movements afterwards.

Neil stared in disbelief, head shaking at the obviousness.

Not feeling like helping with anything—knowing it wouldn’t make a difference anyway—Neil walked over to a tree stump and sat down, staring at the forest beyond the campsite and ignoring the people around him.

Looking up, he could see faint sunlight breaking through the treetops, tiny dust particles in the air making the golden rays visible.

> _[memory]_
> 
> **_Kingdom of Palmetto | Summer, 148th Year of Reverence | Day 9 of the 267th Royal Quarterly Tournament_ **
> 
> There was light _everywhere_.
> 
> Nathaniel was convinced he had never seen so much light in his entire life.
> 
> His father always said that he was too young to know anything. But when he had turned four a couple moon cycles ago, his mommy had said that Nathaniel was a big boy now.
> 
> And big boys _knew_ things.
> 
> So, Nathaniel knew that there was no place anywhere with more light.
> 
> He could see sun rays falling through the large windows of this strange castle. The walls were white and high. But not as high as at home.
> 
> Nathaniel always felt small at home.
> 
> But here it was okay.
> 
> When he had arrived with his father earlier, he had told Nathaniel to stay by his side.
> 
> He knew his father would be angry but how could Nathaniel just stay in one place when there was all this light to explore? Plus, Nathaniel had tried to watch the fights at the tournament but there were all these fences that were too high, so he couldn’t see anything.
> 
> And his father was always angry with Nathaniel anyway.
> 
> Looking up, the ceilings had carvings of flowers in them. And there were big things hanging down with candles in them.
> 
> It looked pretty.
> 
> He wasn’t sure where he was, but he could still hear the noise from the summer tournament outside. It was the last day of the tournament, but he and his father had only arrived today because his father had important business to take care of.
> 
> Neil didn’t mind. The tournament was too loud, anyway. Even now, the echoes of yelling and cheering, of swords clashing and trumpets blaring drifted through the large, large windows along with a warmth that Nathaniel didn’t recognize.
> 
> The air was warm. And it smelled like the greenhouse that his mommy looked after back at home.
> 
> Looking down a hallway that crossed his path, Nathaniel wasn’t sure which way to go. After short hesitation, he kept walking, deeper into the castle, watching the blue, blue sky through the windows. The noises from the tournament were finally quieting down and he could hear chirping from birds outside.
> 
> There were carpets on the walls. They had funny shapes and were orange and looked soft.
> 
> Nathaniel wanted to touch them.
> 
> “You’re not supposed to touch them.”
> 
> At the voice, Nathaniel quickly pulled back his outstretched hand. Turning around, he saw a boy about the same age as him standing a couple feet away. He was frowning at Nathaniel, twisting and turning a blanket he was holding in both his hands.
> 
> He had hair that looked like sunlight. Nathaniel wondered if it was as warm as the sun rays that were falling on his shoulders whenever he stepped in front of the windows in this castle.
> 
> Neil wanted to touch it.
> 
> Quickly walking up to the boy, Nathaniel ignored the fidgety way he was stepping back a little, pulling the blanket higher so it didn’t drag over the floor.
> 
> The boy was wearing a simple woolen tunic with a brown leather vest over it. His pants were also made of wool and looked very comfy.
> 
> Nathaniel’s outfit was supposed to mimic the uniform and armor of Baltimore.
> 
> One day, Nathaniel would be King of Baltimore, so he had to wear this outfit, his mommy always told him.
> 
> It wasn’t very comfortable, but his mommy always said that kings weren’t born to be comfortable, so it was okay.
> 
> “I am, uhm, Crown Prince Nathaniel of, uhm, Baltimore,” Nathaniel said, proud that he had managed the entire title. His tutor had been practicing with him a lot, so Nathaniel was glad that he had only stumbled a little bit.
> 
> The eyes of the other boy widened. They were a color that Nathaniel had never seen before. It was some kind of brown, but lighter.
> 
> Nathaniel decided that he liked the color.
> 
> “I…,” the boy drifted off, looking around him and taking another step back. “I’m Aaron?”
> 
> “Hi Aaron.” The name sounded familiar, but Nathaniel couldn’t quite place it.
> 
> Looking at Aaron, Nathaniel spotted little dots on his cheeks and nose. For a moment he wondered if maybe it was dirt and Aaron hadn’t washed his face that morning. But it didn’t look at all like when Nathaniel got dirty after playing in his mommy’s greenhouse or going outside into the dark forest behind the castle. It looked more like the stars did at night when Nathaniel looked out the window, trying to forget his father’s harsh words and even harsher fists.
> 
> Nathaniel decided that he liked the dots.
> 
> “Hi Nath…an…an…eel.” Aaron huffed. “Your name is too long.”
> 
> Nathaniel was a bit taken aback by that. He had his name from his father. So it had to be a very good name.
> 
> _It is an honor that you are allowed to carry my name. Don’t waste it._
> 
> “It’s not too long,” Neil said with indignation.
> 
> “It is.” The boy was glaring at Nathaniel now. “No one needs that many syllables in their name.”
> 
> Nathaniel didn’t know the word Aaron had just used but it didn’t sound good.
> 
> “Well, it’s my name.” Nathaniel frowned at the other boy. He hadn’t known that there was something wrong with his name.
> 
> “We need something shorter.” Aaron nodded, twisting the blanket in his hands. “How about Neil.”
> 
> Nathaniel scoffed. “That’s not very creative. It’s basically already my name.”
> 
> “Then it is decided.” Aaron nodded again before adding, “What are you doing here?”
> 
> “Oh.” Looking around himself, Neil started squirming. He probably wasn’t supposed to be here. “I couldn’t see over the fences at the tournament and the castle looked so pretty, so… I wanted to explore the castle.”
> 
> “Explore the castle.”
> 
> “Uhu.”
> 
> “When you could be outside at the tournament.”
> 
> “Uhu.”
> 
> “Why.”
> 
> Neil shrugged. “Just wanted to.”
> 
> Aaron nodded again and seemed to be contemplating what to do next. Since it was probably his home, Neil just watched the boy and waited.
> 
> “I could show you the castle, if you want.”
> 
> “Really? That would be amazing, Aaron!”
> 
> Aaron seemed to relax at that. He placed the blanket on a nearby chair and together they walked down another hallway.
> 
> Aaron started to tell him about the castle and the library and the forest and the animals outside. It seemed as if Aaron knew _everything_. Neil made sure to listen closely to his new friend, especially when he explained that the orange carpets were actually furs. From foxes. Which were sacred animals.
> 
> When Aaron showed him a painting of a fox, Neil looked extra long so he would remember it when he got home.
> 
> Aaron also told him that there were wolves outside, but they weren’t dangerous. And how you could tell the difference between pies and cakes. And that when you ate an apple every day, you would never get sick. And that it was better to teach someone how to fish than just giving them a fish. Neil didn’t quite understand the last one but that was okay.
> 
> Listening to Aaron, Neil decided that this was the best place he had ever been to.
> 
> After a while, though, he could no longer shake off the feeling of his father waiting for him. Getting angrier by the minute.
> 
> “Why are you being twitchy.”
> 
> “Uhm,” Neil looked up to his new friend, not sure how to respond. “I should probably go back soon. My father… he doesn’t like it when I walk off.”
> 
> “And you did it anyway.”
> 
> “Well, yeah.” Neil shrugged his shoulders, squirming again.
> 
> Aaron sighed deeply before saying, “Come on, I’ll show you the way to the castle entrance. Everybody should be there.”
> 
> They walked quietly next to each other, Neil following Aaron’s sure stride along the hallways and down the stairs they had climbed earlier.
> 
> When Neil could see the entrance hall, he noticed Aaron stopping next to him. Turning to his friend, Neil smiled at the boy with the warm eyes and sunlight hair and stars on his cheeks and nose.
> 
> “Thank you, Aaron.”
> 
> Aaron just huffed before walking off down a smaller hallway.
> 
> Turning back around, Neil continued forward until he stepped into the entrance hall, seeing his father glaring at the people around him. Quickly taking note of all people standing around, just like he had been taught, he spotted Aaron standing next to an old woman. He quickly walked over to his friend, smiling up at him.
> 
> “Hi Aaron, where did you go?” And when had Aaron changed into his new clothes?
> 
> He was suddenly wearing leather pants rather than the woolen ones from just moments ago. His hair also looked different, with braids keeping the golden strands out of his face.
> 
> Very strange.
> 
> The boy turned to Neil, blinking. “Who are you?”
> 
> “Uhm,” Neil stammered. Had Aaron already forgotten him again?
> 
> “Nathaniel!”
> 
> Neil flinched at the loud voice, his father commanding him to come over to him.
> 
> With a last look at a confused Aaron, Neil threw a quick “Bye, Aaron,” over his shoulder and ran across the entrance hall to his father.
> 
> Just before he was out of earshot, he could hear a confused “Bye, Nathaniel.”
> 
> The name didn’t sound right coming from his new friend.
> 
> _[end of memory]_

„Prince Nathaniel?“

The servant‘s rough voice jolted Neil from the memory. Around him, the campsite had been packed up and the caravan seemed to be ready to continue its journey to the Baltimore-Palmetto-border.

Once he was settled again in the carriage and the caravan was underway—Lola had finally left him alone to ride on one of the horses—Neil kept himself busy by watching the forest around them grow denser, greener, coming alive with animals.

Sunlight was falling in rays all the way onto the path ahead of them, signaling they were no longer in the icy mountain terrain of Baltimore. It made him think of the sun in Palmetto and how he had been impatient to return there after his first trip when he‘d met Aaron.

He and Aaron hadn‘t talked at any of the following tournaments, Aaron seemingly dodging Neil at every turn.

At only four years of age, Neil had already been used to being alone, so it had been okay.

He had no longer had any illusions that Aaron would talk to him when he finally returned to the castle with the bright sunlight and white walls and high windows, but somehow he had.

In fact, he had immediately started toward Neil, no hesitation at all, when Neil had finally seen him on the second day of the Royal Spring Tournament, standing next to an old woman and a man. The man, he had learned later, had been Luther, Aaron’s uncle and the kingdom’s regent who had taken over all royal duties when the queen’s husband had died shortly after Aaron had been born.

Thinking about how Aaron had grabbed Neil’s wrist and dragged him off across the entrance hall, almost made Neil smile.

Back then, it had been almost two years since their first encounter, but Aaron had remembered it just as clearly as Neil.

The following week in Palmetto had been the best week in the six years of Neil’s life. It had been even better than when he had managed to shift into a dragon for the first time alongside his mother deep inside the dark forest. Or when the cook had made apple pie for Neil’s birthday simply because she knew it was his favorite.

The last time Palmetto had hosted the tournament it had been summer, with blue skies and hot temperatures. This time around, Neil had gotten to experience spring in Palmetto. He had marveled at the blossoming flowers in the garden, no greenhouse needed, and the fluffy clouds in the sky and the green grass and soft moss in the forest and a million other things.

On one of their trips through the castle and out to the tournament grounds—his father had thankfully allowed him to spend a couple hours each day with “a fellow crown prince”—Aaron had told him that they couldn’t be friends.

At first, Neil hadn’t understood why; Aaron had been his first friend and he didn’t want to lose him again.

But Aaron had explained that his mother didn’t like it when Aaron had friends outside the castle. And Neil knew better than most what it meant to have an angry parent.

So, Aaron and he weren’t friends. And Neil always let Aaron approach him first and left him alone when Aaron didn’t initiate any conversation during the formal royal events throughout the years.

Basically, Aaron never talked to him outside of his home.

Neil hadn’t liked it, still didn’t. But he wasn‘t selfish enough to put his only (and best) friend—well, not-friend—in danger.

Shifting into a more comfortable position in the carriage, Neil thought about how, to this day, Aaron was still his best not-friend.

At least he hoped so.

He would simply have to rescue Aaron’s sister and bring her home and then he and Aaron could spend their time together again.

> _[memory]_
> 
> **_Kingdom of Palmetto | Fall, 153rd Year of Reverence | Day 3 of the 288th Royal Quarterly Tournament_ **
> 
> “I will fight in the tournament and I will win against everyone.”
> 
> Neil nodded vigorously at Aaron’s words, watching the other boy stabbing the air with his wooden sword, standing in the middle of the practice arena of Palmetto castle.
> 
> Aaron was the best fighter Neil knew so it made sense that he would win against everyone at the tournaments.
> 
> “Those arenas are so big though, aren’t you afraid?”
> 
> “I’m not afraid of anything,” Aaron said confidently, swinging the wooden sword in a downward motion that looked very impressive.
> 
> Again, Neil nodded in support of his friend.
> 
> Of course, Neil knew that statement to be untrue, but Aaron had told him once that sometimes you might feel one way but must behave in a different way. It’s what grown-ups did.
> 
> Neil didn’t quite understand it yet but Aaron was several moon cycles older so it made sense that he would know more about these things than Neil.
> 
> He supposed it was also why Aaron had showed him the highest tower of Palmetto castle, when Neil had wanted to see the view, even though he had nearly crushed Neil’s hand as they had walked up the stairs and to the windows.
> 
> “In three years, I will be 13 and I will be allowed to fight in the junior competitions,” Aaron continued. “And you can fight in the tournament after that.”
> 
> Aaron quickly looked over to where Neil was sitting on the ground, wooden sword lying uselessly next to him since he couldn’t figure out how to handle the heavy weapon.
> 
> “But you don’t have to,” Aaron said quickly. “I can fight for both of us.”
> 
> “No, I want to fight as well!” Neil got up and tried to imitate Aaron’s effortless handling of the sword. After a couple heavy-handed and admittedly rather uncoordinated swings, he mumbled more to himself than to Aaron, “I just need to figure out how to do it.”
> 
> Hearing Aaron’s humming, Neil looked to his best friend, seeing that he had his thinking face on.
> 
> See, Aaron wasn’t just the best fighter, he was also the smartest person in all of the kingdoms. Even including his father—not that he would tell that to his father.
> 
> “Maybe you shouldn’t fight with a sword.”
> 
> “Huh?” If Neil didn’t fight with a sword then what would he fight with? His father was a master with the longsword, so there had never been another option for Neil.
> 
> “You’re very small, so maybe you need a smaller weapon,” Aaron said, cocking his head to the side.
> 
> “We’re the same height,” Neil said, irritated.
> 
> Aaron just rolled his eyes at Neil. “Yes, but you’re thinner.”
> 
> “That’s because you always eat sweet stuff from the kitchen,” Neil mumbled.
> 
> Aaron ignored him and instead went over to a wall with all kinds of weapons. Looking at the selection in front of him, Aaron told Neil, “Let me think about it for a bit. I’ll find the perfect weapon for you.”
> 
> “My father will kill me if I fight with anything other than a longsword.”
> 
> “He’ll also kill you if you’re terrible with a longsword.”
> 
> Neil couldn’t argue with that logic. Walking over to Aaron, he stared at the display of weapons he didn’t know.
> 
> “Plus, we can’t both fight with the same weapon or we’ll have to compete against each other in the tournament.”
> 
> “Oh.” Neil hadn’t thought of that.
> 
> “So it’s decided. I’ll find you a weapon and then we can both compete in the tournament.” After a sideways glance at Neil, Aaron continued, “And then we can spend the tournaments together.”
> 
> Neil’s head snapped to Aaron. “Really?”
> 
> Aaron gave a decisive nod. “Yes. I just have to compete in the tournaments. Then we can spend them together.”
> 
> Neil couldn’t help the giddy smile breaking out on his face at the news. Right now, he mostly spent the tournaments with Jeremy and some of the lords and ladies from Jeremy’s kingdom. And sometimes he watched Aaron following one of the princesses around. Neil didn’t know her but hearing that Aaron would spend the tournaments with _him_ instead, was somehow the best thing Aaron had ever told him.
> 
> Even better than when he had explained how wolves howled and why you should never tell people you saw a wolf unless you actually did and why bees were important.
> 
> Three years. Neil couldn’t wait for them to be over.
> 
> _[end of memory]_

The carriage suddenly stopping had Neil blinking away the memory of his naïve self at nine years old.

Thinking back to that day eleven years ago, he scoffed at himself, remembering how determined he had been when he had told his parents that he would compete in the tournaments, convinced that they would be proud.

Remembering how, for the first time in his life, his father had nodded at him as if he’d done something right.

And how his mother had looked at him in shock, not understanding why Neil would want to follow the path of a fighter when he could be a diplomat.

He hadn’t been present when his parents had talked about it, but he had been in enough ‘conversations’ with his father to know that his mother stood no chance.

And sure enough, half a year after Neil had announced that he wanted to participate in the Royal Quarterly Tournament, half a year after his father had finally found something worthwhile in Neil, half a year after his mother had stood up against Nathan to protect her son—half a year after Neil had thought his parents would be proud of him—his mother had been dead and lowered into her grave.

The very next day, Neil had stood on the sand of their practice arena of Baltimore castle, with a too heavy sword in his hand and what felt like the weight of his mother’s corpse on his shoulders.

After rolling his shoulders, trying to get rid of the phantom weight pushing them down, Neil looked out the window of his carriage and saw a group of guards standing around a fallen tree that was blocking the road.

With a deep sigh, he pulled his head back into the carriage and leaned against the head rest.

The issue could probably be easily solved by a couple men pushing the log to the side of the path, but Lola was never one to waste an opportunity.

If he absolutely had to, Neil could’ve probably pushed the tree aside by himself.

Aaron definitely could’ve.

Slouching lower in his seat, he got comfortable to wait his father’s men out, absently running his fingers over the amulets hidden under his clothes.

The first one was round and made of glass with swirling blue smoke inside. It helped Neil focus his energy—be it to create an orb of light or to shift into another form. Sometimes residual energy got caught in the amulet, making the smoke move continuously in random shapes. The amulet was fastened to a leather necklace, wrapped around Neil’s neck several times, the pendant resting against his collarbone.

The second amulet was the dragon made of wood, carved by his mother when he had been small and needed to hold on to the little figurine in order to remember all the right body parts before his shift. By now, the scaly edges were worn down to soft curves, the dragon’s features barely recognizable. The pendant was clasped to a long and threadbare leather strap, falling to the middle of his chest, safely hidden under his armor.

Listening to the low murmur of the arguing guards going in circles, he knew there was nothing he could do other than sit and wait for fate to catch up.

After all, it always did.

> _[memory]_
> 
> **_Kingdom of Palmetto | Spring, 157th Year of Reverence | Day 6 of the 302nd Royal Quarterly Tournament_ **
> 
> Neil had lost.
> 
> He didn’t know how it had happened but somehow this other kid had managed to thrust past his guard, make him lose his grip on his scimitars, make him lose.
> 
> He had walked off the sand of the juniors’ arena at the tournament, head hung in shame and scimitars in a death grip.
> 
> Someone had brought him to a quiet corner where he now stood, trying to understand what had gone wrong.
> 
> He had practiced _so hard_.
> 
> Everyday.
> 
> Just to lose in the quarter finals. Shocked, he realized that he hadn’t even made it to the final.
> 
> “Hey Neil.”
> 
> Aaron’s quiet voice had Neil tense up. Blinking a couple times to stop his eyes from stinging _like that_ , Neil couldn’t meet his best friend’s eyes.
> 
> How could he, after he had lost so pathetically?
> 
> “Uhm, don’t cry?”
> 
> “’m not crying.” Neil sniffed and blinked a couple more times.
> 
> “You were really good. Well, until you lost your scimitars…,” Aaron drifted off, shuffling on his feet. “But that turn you did in the middle, where he almost lost his grip, that was so good.”
> 
> Neil finally looked up, seeing Aaron was carrying Neil’s cloak. Embarrassed that he had forgotten to pick it up on his way out of the arena, Neil quickly took the heavy garment out of Aaron’s hands and wrapped it around himself.
> 
> It was spring in Palmetto, so he really didn’t need it, but it showed the insignia of Baltimore and Neil had wanted to make his father proud.
> 
> Or, at least, not angry.
> 
> Remembering his father and what was sure to be waiting for him at the end of the day, Neil could feel his face fall, eyes stinging again. Looking up to the ceiling of the arena, Neil wished he had never decided to fight.
> 
> “What.”
> 
> Ignoring Aaron’s quiet question, Neil thought about how everything had been terrible since that stupid day when he had told his parents that he would fight in the stupid tournaments. That he would win and become the best fighter.
> 
> “Neil.”
> 
> “My father,” Neil finally mumbled, biting his lip, not able to shake the nervous tell even though Aaron had told him many times that he was too easy to read when he did that. “He’s going to be angry.”
> 
> A hand on his arm had Neil fully turning toward Aaron, searching his best friend’s eyes for a way out of this mess.
> 
> “I messed up, Aaron.”
> 
> “No, you didn’t.” Aaron was looking around them before shuffling closer. “That other guy was totally cheating.”
> 
> “He was?”
> 
> “Yes, I saw it.”
> 
> “Oh.” Neil hadn’t noticed anything but if Aaron said the guy cheated then it must be true. Because Aaron never lied.
> 
> Maybe his father wouldn’t be too mad then?
> 
> “Yes, totally.” Aaron nodded vigorously, Neil joining in with the movement from sheer relief.
> 
> “Still, I wanted to win. You did.”
> 
> “It’s my second tournament, though. So I know what to expect.”
> 
> Neil furrowed his brows. “But you also won the last time.”
> 
> Aaron just shrugged, letting silence settle between them.
> 
> Neil took the time to collect himself. Only when he pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders despite the warmth, did he feel Aaron withdrawing his hand and realized that it had still rested on his forearm.
> 
> “Neil?”
> 
> “Hm?” Neil couldn’t help but stare at his best friend’s eyes. There was nothing more calming in all the land than Aaron’s eyes and the way he looked at Neil.
> 
> Like Neil was _important_.
> 
> “As long as one of us wins, we can’t lose,” Aaron said, voice steady. “I won, so we both won. That’s how we work.”
> 
> Aaron was looking at Neil imploringly, as if he was trying to cement the words in Neil’s head, the truth of them ringing loud and clear through Neil’s mind.
> 
> _[end of memory]_

_As long as one of us wins, we can’t lose._

Neil could still remember Aaron’s scratchy voice at 13 years of age as if he had just uttered those words a minute ago.

They had been Neil’s mantra ever since that day in the Palmetto warmth. He had let them carry him through every tournament, winning every time, and through every argument and altercation outside the arena.

A screeching sound over their caravan had Neil looking up, seeing a cluster of dragons flying high in the sky toward the mountains as if they knew where their caravan was headed.

With a deep sigh, Neil leaned back in his seat and thought of feeling the warm sun falling onto his back and wind currents under his wings.

* * *

It took them an entire week to get to the mountainside.

A _week_.

They wanted to see Neil fail, see him break. But he would not give them the satisfaction of him losing his patience.

With every wrong turn his guards intentionally took, every unnecessary break and every overly early stop for the night, Neil just turned the other way. He spent the days staring at the bright blue sky, thinking of the summer sky in Palmetto, and the nights looking at the stars, matching them to the constellation of dots across Aaron’s cheeks and nose in his mind.

The thought always calmed him down. He wasn’t sure why.

He remembered how, one afternoon when he an Aaron had been only 15, they had snuck away from the tournament field. Lying in the grass a good distance away from the arenas, the clear skies of spring in Columbia above and the chirping of birds around them, Aaron had been lulled to sleep next to him.

Neil hadn’t been tired, still too keyed up after his recent win, so he had stayed busy by counting all the freckles on Aaron’s face.

There had been 38.

He wondered if there were still 38.

With a deep sigh, Neil took his eyes off the bright blue sky above and finally stepped away from his carriage. Looking up at the mountainside, he could see the opening to the cave where the Princess of Palmetto was waiting. In front of the cave, on a small ledge, he spotted a massive dark green dragon, seemingly unaware of the caravan and the noise its members were making.

When he heard shuffling behind him, he turned to see the caravan trudging back the way it came, already disappearing again behind a bend in the path. Disbelieving, he watched a couple servants even waving at him, probably wondering about the chances of ever seeing him again.

Were they fucking kidding him? He hadn’t expected any of them to stay for the fight and following trip to Palmetto, but now they wouldn’t even let him have a fucking horse?

“Really?” Neil couldn’t help the incredulity in his voice as he addressed Lola.

“Prince Nathaniel, the king ordered us to bring his people to safety as soon as we have accompanied you to the mountainside,” Lola said imperiously. “A dragon is too unpredictable to keep the people of Baltimore anywhere near it.”

Rubbing his temple, Neil tried really hard not to react. Drawing forth every ounce of stoicism he had learned from Aaron, Neil managed to nod at the guard. “Well, then, better get to safety. I will see you upon my return.”

“Not so fast.” Lola’s grin reminded him of his father.

As if on silent command, all guards stepped forward, building a circle around Neil.

For a short moment, Neil wondered if he should draw his weapons but ultimately decided against it—he couldn’t risk them taking his weapons from him and not giving them back once done with whatever they had planned for him.

Eight against one.

The thought of challenging his father just so he could have the guards hanged for treason against their monarch sounded better with every punch and every kick. He tried to stay standing but after one to many shoves, he lost his balance and fell to his knees.

It went downhill from there.

> _[memory]_
> 
> **_Kingdom of Palmetto | Spring, 157 th Year of Reverence | Day 6 of the 302nd Royal Quarterly Tournament_ **
> 
> He could hear himself panting. It was a ragged and uneven sound.
> 
> His ribs were on fire, his wrist was probably sprained if not broken where his father had gripped him to throw him against the walls of his chamber in the Columbia castle on the evening after Neil had lost in his first tournament.
> 
> “You brought shame on me.“ Nathan‘s quiet voice was barely more than a hiss, all his contempt hitting Neil and pushing him further down.
> 
> “I‘m sorry,“ Neil pushed the words out through his lips, the side of his face hurting too much to cooperate beyond a handful of words at a time.
> 
> “I do not care.“ Nathan ripped Neil‘s cloak from his shoulders, shredding the material. “You do not deserve to wear the insignia of my kingdom.“
> 
> “He cheated, father, I couldn‘t—“
> 
> A kick to his stomach had Neil groaning, rolling onto his side and holding his middle. Blinking furiously, Neil tried to make the tears in his eyes go away.
> 
> “Don‘t blame your failure on others.“
> 
> Without missing a beat, Nathan grabbed Neil‘s hair, lifting him half of the floor. The sudden shift had Neil‘s vision momentarily black out, his head going fuzzy. He tried to balance himself, but his stomach hurt too much and his arms were too short to reach the floor from where he was dangling in the air.
> 
> “You will never bring failure to my kingdom again.“
> 
> Nathan shook Neil‘s limp body once, twice.
> 
> “Yes, father,“ Neil pressed out, the words rough, causing him to cough and choke.
> 
> Nathan dropped him without warning and with a last shove against his hips commanded him to get out.
> 
> Crawling to the next wall, Neil used the rough stone to drag himself to a standing position.
> 
> That night, he didn‘t sleep. But he didn‘t die, either.
> 
> _[end of memory]_

Slowly pushing himself into a seated position, trying not to throw up or faint, Neil’s head was dizzy.

A couple yards away, Lola and the rest of the guards were getting on their horses.

Neil tried to ignore them from his spot on the ground, focusing instead on normalizing his breathing despite the throbbing pain in his ribs.

“Word of advice, Nathaniel. Don’t show your face again in our kingdoms.“

The words jolted him from his crouch on the forest ground.

He still remembered the day after he had lost his first tournament fight. How he could barely breathe, had barely managed to put one foot in front of the other on his way to the tournament field. And how, after seeing Aaron‘s quiet pride after winning his crossbow tournament, Neil had known that it had been worth it.

He would bring Aaron‘s sister home. He would prove that he was worth _something_.

Dusting off grass and dirt from his cloak, he started walking toward the edge of the forest and the mountainside.

Standing in the warm rays of the Palmetto sun, Neil waited until the guards were completely out of sight. Only then was he able to relax his shoulders the tiniest fraction, the tension from the last two weeks sitting deep in his muscles.

Turning to the mountain, he took a closer look at the dragon that was sitting in front of the cave about 50 yards up the mountainside. After a moment, Neil realized that it looked familiar. He sometimes saw him flying across the mountain ridges. He might’ve even joined him in the past, Neil thought.

Running his thumb over his dragon amulet, he decided to wait a couple more minutes before making his way to the dragon. He couldn’t risk the guards still being close enough to witness his fight.

After all, he didn’t intend to fight as a human.

* * *

After leaning against a nearby tree for about half an hour, quietly observing the dragon, Neil was almost certain that A, the dragon was not actually asleep but pretending to be (badly, if Neil may say so), and B, none of his bones were broken.

He deemed that enough of a success to finally get this fight over with.

With a dragon in his eyesight, he didn’t really need his amulet. But the motion was so ingrained that his fingers were already tracing the shape of his wooden dragon, over the scaly back and along the spiky wings, before he had even let his eyes fall shut.

The journey and the guards’ parting gift had taken a lot of energy out of Neil, but he had mastered the ability of always preserving enough to allow him to shift at any point.

He had to. Not being able to shift could cost his life.

_No one can ever know._

And no one did. But feeling his body resolve into a million particles, snapping back together in a body easily ten times his human size, Neil couldn’t fathom how anyone could think this was a curse.

To Neil, being a witcher had always been the biggest freedom he had.

* * *

The dragon had been surreptitiously eyeing Neil ever since he had arrived at the edge of the forest. But now that Neil was lifting into the air, flying closer to the cave entrance, the dragon finally got up, knowing what was ahead.

Glancing past the dragon, Neil couldn’t see anything beyond the dark entrance. Wherever the princess was, she was not lurking outside within striking distance of the dragon.

Neil knew that she was Aaron’s sister and that he should have some faith that she wasn’t _completely_ horrible, but Aaron was very strange at times so what if she was strange all the time?

The dragon lifting into the sky had Neil shifting his focus to the task at hand. He could worry about the princess later.

When the two dragons finally crashed into each other in the air, it sounded as if two boulders collided, booming thunder being released into the air around them. They circled higher, grappling each other and trying to throw the other off.

The dragon was more stubborn and aggressive than Neil had expected, as if it was truly protecting this princess waiting in the cave rather than engaging in a ritual as old as time.

At the same time, Neil could tell that the dragon was hesitating, clearly recognizing Neil in his dragon form, with his dark red scales and spiky ridges along his back.

After what felt like hours but was probably mere minutes, Neil finally managed to grab hold of the dragon and throw him against the mountainside, making the mountain shake with the force and causing rubble to roll down its side. They were close to the entrance of the cave, so the dragon landed on the ledge after sliding down the mountainside. Shaking his massive body, he stared up at Neil as if gauging his chances to win.

Hissing, Neil flew lower to be at eye level with the crouching dragon. Finally, after a long moment with only the flapping of Neil’s wings breaking the silence, the dragon took a couple steps back, crowding against the entrance, before pushing himself off the ledge and taking off across the forest.

Neil watched the dragon fly away until he was certain he wouldn’t come back. Turning back to the cave, he flopped his wings a couple times until he could land on the ledge with a thud, the dark entrance looming before him.

With a deep breath, Neil once more felt his body explode, could vaguely sense the shock wave it sent out as he shrunk back into his human body, releasing the residual energy into the air.

One challenge down. Another one left.

Time to face this princess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literary references in this chapter thanks to Palmetto library:
> 
> “If you give a man a fish he is hungry again in an hour. If you teach him to catch a fish you do him a good turn.” – Mrs. Dymond by Anne Isabella Thackeray Ritchie
> 
> The Boy Who Cried Wolf, Aesop’s Fables


	4. Chapter 4 – POV Andrew

**Kingdom of Palmetto | Fall, 164 th Year of Reverence **

If Andrew had to spend even one more day in this moldy hole, he would leave by himself. Fuck the conventions and everything that depended on some idiot coming here and bringing Andrew home.

Just then, a screech outside had him scrambling up from where he had been leaning against the side of the damp stone wall, staring into the middle distance and bored to death. Thank the stars that he was wearing the thickest clothes he owned, the thick leather pants and warm fur cloak keeping the cold of the cave at bay.

He was waiting for a voice to challenge the dragon, as was the custom, but all he could hear was screeching and growling.

It sounded as if some other dragon was challenging Reginald for dominance.

Massaging his temple, he shook his head in disbelieve. Of course it would be Andrew’s luck that he would pick the one dragon that got into a fight with _another_ fucking dragon when he was supposed to sit in front of this damn cave until some fucking stranger came to ‘rescue’ Andrew.

At this point, he wasn’t even sure if anyone was going to show up. It had been almost two weeks since they had arrived at the cave and coaxed Reginald to sit in front of the entrance.

He didn’t want to think about how something might’ve gone wrong, but the timeframe was way off and Andrew knew it.

Oh well, worst case he wouldn’t have to marry some stranger.

Who knew who Aaron would pick out for him. Maybe Renee, a lady of the Palmetto court and closest thing to a friend Andrew would openly admit to, had talked to Aaron and th—

Andrew made sure to quench that hope immediately.

It didn’t matter.

There wasn’t anyone he wanted on the other side of that stupid entrance to this hell hole.

Absolutely no one.

Even if he did, _which he didn’t_ , it wouldn’t matter.

From his birth to his death, Andrew would never be allowed to move freely. Being born second to his brother—not only a twin but of the same gender—he had been deemed a curse from birth.

_No one can ever know about him._

Those words had been whispered throughout the castle. They had stuck themselves to Andrew’s feet wherever he went, to every breath he dared to take, choking him until he wished to _not be at all_.

His mother had told him bluntly, when he was only nine years old, that she wanted to have him killed as soon as she realized the curse he had brought onto the family, mere minutes after he had been born. Only the midwife, Abby, had managed to talk her into letting Andrew live.

Sometimes Andrew wondered if Abby thought she had done something good that day. Dooming him to a life in the shadows, barely existing at all.

With a castle sworn to secrecy under punishment of death, they had spun the ridiculous story of a princess.

Too shy to ever step outside the castle.

Too unimportant to take part in any royal functions.

And Andrew had found his peace with that.

He had claimed the forest as his. His brother giving him a couple hours every day so Andrew could spend them outside in freedom and away from prying eyes.

He had trained to become the best fighter, better than any of their knights, better than any warrior across all the kingdoms. Just so that he could protect his stupid brother who was completely useless with a sword in his hands.

So he could fight in the tournaments and—

Bring honor to his kingdom, Andrew thought, nodding to himself.

Yes. Honor.

Honor was a good reason.

And everything had been _okay_.

Until his stupid brother had to go and fall in love with this annoying princess he had been following around ever since they had been children.

Andrew scoffed at his pathetic brother. Andrew would never make himself so dependent on another person. With a huff, Andrew crossed his arms and drew further back into the dark tunnel of the cave.

Couldn’t his brother have at least picked some random lady or peasant, so he could’ve kept his kingdom?

Fucking idiot.

And then he hadn’t even been able to rescue her himself from that stupid dragon—even though they picked the calmest dragon there was—so Andrew had to go and get Katelyn from that stupid cave in the Columbia mountains.

Pathetic.

And if his brother fucking off to be king of some other kingdom hadn’t been enough, next the people of Palmetto started to become worried. Couldn’t they have at least waited a couple years before letting the unrest spread through the population?

But no. They got immediately nervous with Aaron leaving to rule the Kingdom of Columbia, demanding for the _princess_ to marry and take the throne.

And if the people of Palmetto demanding for Andrew’s alter ego to marry wasn’t enough, everyone in the royal court, from his brother to their guards, suddenly started talking about how Andrew shouldn’t be alone.

As if he hadn’t been alone all his life.

Stupid rules, and stupid people.

> _[memory]_
> 
> **_Kingdom of Palmetto | Fall, 164 th Year of Reverence_ **
> 
> _“The princess has a suitor!”_
> 
> Andrew had heard the whispered shouts of excitement long before Dan, the head of Andrew‘s personal guard, had found him hiding in the kitchen.
> 
> “There you are.”
> 
> Andrew merely hummed, stuffing another piece of pastry in his mouth. Bee just smiled at him from her spot next to the stove before leaving the kitchen to give Andrew and Dan some privacy.
> 
> “Aaron has finalized an agreement. He sent a letter with the announcement.”
> 
> Andrew shrugged, already knowing all that.
> 
> “Your sendoff is scheduled for tomorrow morning.”
> 
> At that, Andrew finally looked at Dan, quickly swallowing down the doughy pastry.
> 
> “Tomorrow?”
> 
> That made no sense. The new moon cycle started today, why wouldn’t they wait for the next?
> 
> “Yes.” Dan looked at him imploringly, her frizzy hair sticking up in all directions thanks to the humidity of the kitchen.
> 
> Whatever Dan wanted him to ask, Andrew would not give her the satisfaction.
> 
> With a huff, Dan crossed her arms in front of her chest plate, the leather creaking and crunching and the letter getting bunched up in her fist.
> 
> “Don’t you want to know who it is?”
> 
> “No.” Of course he did.
> 
> Dan narrowed her eyes at Andrew but didn’t call him on his bullshit. Usually she forgot that he was the royal in their conversations, so he was almost impressed with her restraint.
> 
> “Good, because the letter is useless anyway.” With a sigh, Dan let her arms drop to her sides for a moment before raising them once more, waving the letter in the air, frustration clear in her choppy movements.
> 
> Andrew didn’t let the disappointment show on his face.
> 
> Because it didn’t matter who had agreed to this ruse.
> 
> After grabbing another pastry, he let himself be herded to one of the sitting rooms where most members of his guard—friends, as they insisted on calling themselves—were already waiting. In addition, his cousin Nicky was perched on one of the chairs, always up for new gossip. Luther, Nicky’s father and past regent of Palmetto before Aaron had turned 18—and the least trustworthy person in this kingdom if you asked Andrew—was standing in a corner, eyeing everyone quietly.
> 
> Shifty fucker.
> 
> “Finally. I was wondering how long Aaron would take to get this done.”
> 
> “What are you talking about, Kevin. Aaron has only been gone for a week. That’s nothing,” Dan admonished as she walked over to stand in front of one of the windows.
> 
> Kevin, huffy as always, crossed his arms. “I’m just saying, it will be good for the people of Palmetto when we can finally be done with this.”
> 
> “And who, exactly, is ‘we’?” Andrew’s voice was calm, but Kevin still looked chastised.
> 
> Once Kevin was done spluttering and grumbling, Renee spoke up, “Do we know who the suitor is?”
> 
> “No, Aaron didn’t give any hints in his letter and the messenger left again before we could question him.”
> 
> “Well.” Matt, a lowly member of the castle guard, nodded at Andrew in what was probably supposed to be encouragement. “I’m sure whoever it is… you’ll get… along?”
> 
> Andrew scoffed at the words. Andrew didn’t get along with _anyone_.
> 
> He ignored Renee’s knowing look.
> 
> _[end of memory]_

Something heavy hitting the side of the mountain had the ground under Andrew’s feet shaking, making him stumble back a step into the wall. There was a thud just outside the entrance, followed by silence.

If Reginald had been hurt, Andrew would find that other dragon and make sure it was the last thing that creature had ever done.

Since he wasn’t allowed to interact with anyone outside the privy circle of court members, he spent most of his time in the forest. That was where he had met the dragons, watching them as they circled close to the ground, minding their own business.

Reginald was a massive dragon, that had come and fought off more than one wolf when Andrew had gotten lost in the forest when he had been younger. Dragons, in general, were surprisingly okay. A bit temperamental and stubborn at times, but loyal and protective to a fault. Andrew didn’t know why some people were so afraid of them.

Weaklings.

Just then, a massive shock wave rolled through the cave, hitting Andrew and pushing him against the wall.

What the fuck.

After several beats of silence, Andrew heard soft steps entering the cave.

_What the fuck._

The steps were coming closer, sounding eerily like a human, but that wasn’t possible.

Moving away from the entrance of the cave and soundlessly drawing his sword—just to be sure, no other reason, of course—he watched as a soft light illuminated the dirty ground and moldy walls, almost hitting Andrew’s feet as he kept stepping further back and around a bend in the tunnel.

Looking around the bend, Andrew saw light seemingly floating in the air. There seemed to be no torch or lantern, nothing but a vague outline of a black shadow visible behind the light.

_What the actual fuck._

Not ready to reveal himself to the source of the weird light, Andrew watched from the shadows in anticipation as the light orb grew slightly in size, illuminating the cave in a cold white-blue light.

Andrew couldn’t make out the person behind the floating light, the orb too bright to see past it. This shouldn’t be possible. Who the fuck was this?

He had heard of people who could… do things. But only ever in elaborate stories, dark tales and whispered warnings. And never had he thought it possible to one day come face to face with one.

Had this person been sent by Aaron? If so, then what the fuck had Aaron been thinking?

Andrew swallowed down any disappointment. It’s not as if he had been hoping for someone specific.

He _hadn’t_.

The orb seemed to shrink, floating further away from the person. Finally, Andrew was able to make out a distinct figure—wiry frame, about the same height as Andrew, long dark cloak with a wide hood.

The person suddenly stopped on his way deeper into the cave.

He must’ve noticed Andrew standing behind the bend.

Looking down, Andrew could see the light glinting off the blade of his sword.

After a beat, the light shrunk further, revealing porcelain skin, tense lips and ice-blue eyes that looked almost silver in the white light.

Andrew felt his breath falter, left hand unconsciously gripping onto the damp wall to steady himself as his traitorous heart started racing in his chest.

He would recognize those eyes anywhere.

> _[memory]_
> 
> **_Kingdom of Palmetto | Summer, 148 th Year of Reverence | Day 9 of the 267th Royal Quarterly Tournament_ **
> 
> The boy had eyes the color of the sky.
> 
> Andrew had never seen eyes like that.
> 
> He watched quietly as the boy was wandering down the hallway, staring at the ceiling as if he had never seen a ceiling before. And out the windows.
> 
> Maybe they didn‘t have windows where he came from?
> 
> Andrew had to be careful to not be seen. His mother always said that no one was allowed to see him or hear him. So Andrew was always quiet. And never left the private wing of the castle where he lived.
> 
> But now there was this boy in his hallways and Andrew didn‘t know what to do.
> 
> The boy seemed to be the same age as Andrew. Maybe he was lost?
> 
> Unsure what to do next, Andrew decided to just watch him.
> 
> That lasted until the boy suddenly stepped up to one of the fox furs covering the wall and reached out as if to _touch_ it.
> 
> “You’re not supposed to touch them.”
> 
> The words were out before Andrew could stop them. The boy turning to Andrew— _looking at him_ —did not make the situation better.
> 
> No one was supposed to see him.
> 
> Suddenly nervous, Andrew twisted his blanky this way and that. Maybe if he ran to his room the boy would forget that he had seen him?
> 
> Before Andrew could make a decision, the boy was already walking towards him, stopping only a foot away. Andrew hastily took a step back.
> 
> He wasn’t supposed to talk to anyone.
> 
> And now there was this boy in front of him. He was wearing all black. It looked really cool. Andrew felt a bit stupid in his woolen clothes. He was going to ask Abby if he could wear all black as well.
> 
> Across the boy’s chest was the insignia of one of the kingdoms that Andrew remembered from his books but couldn’t place just now.
> 
> He also had dark red hair, almost as long as Andrew’s, falling into his face in waves and locks.
> 
> Andrew wondered where people had hair like that.
> 
> It looked soft.
> 
> “I am, uhm, Crown Prince Nathaniel of, uhm, Baltimore,” the boy said, stumbling a little over the words.
> 
> Abby had said that it was okay to stumble over big words, so Andrew didn’t mind. When the words sank in, however, Andrew realized just who was in front of him.
> 
> This was a crown prince. Those were _important_. His mother always told Andrew that.
> 
> “I…” Taking another step back, Andrew tried to come up with what to do. Clearly, he couldn’t be Andrew, so he went with the next best thing. “I’m Aaron?”
> 
> “Hi Aaron.” The voice sounded unconcerned but the way the boy was looking at Andrew had him fidgeting on the spot.
> 
> “Hi Nath…an…an…eel,” Andrew tried repeating the boy’s name, twisting his blanky in his hands. Reminding himself again that it was _okay_ to stumble over big words, he only huffed a little bit. “Your name is too long.”
> 
> The boy looked taken aback.
> 
> “It’s not too long,” he said as if insulted.
> 
> “It is. No one needs that many syllables in their name,” Andrew said, quietly proud of himself for not stumbling over the word ‘syllable’. He had only learned the word the other week, so he liked that he had already been able to use it.
> 
> “Well, it’s my name.”
> 
> “We need something shorter.” Something that Andrew could pronounce without looking like a child. Going through the options in his head, Andrew went through different variations of this boy’s name he could remember. “How about Neil.”
> 
> The boy, Neil, scoffed. “That’s not very creative. It’s basically already my name.”
> 
> “Then it is decided,” Andrew said, feeling very accomplished—another word he had learned recently—as he repeated the words that Uncle Luther always used when presiding over the court in his mother’s place. Looking around them, Andrew remembered that he wasn’t supposed to be talking to anyone. “What are you doing here?”
> 
> “Oh.” The boy now also looked around, fidgeting with the cloak around his shoulders. “I couldn’t see over the fences at the tournament and the castle looked so pretty, so… I wanted to explore the castle.”
> 
> “Explore the castle.”
> 
> “Uhu.”
> 
> “When you could be outside at the tournament.” Who would ever choose to stay inside when they could walk freely around outside? In the _land_?
> 
> “Uhu.”
> 
> “Why.”
> 
> Neil shrugged. “Just wanted to.”
> 
> That made no sense.
> 
> Looking at this strange boy, with eyes like the sky and hair like embers in a fire and clothes of a warrior, Andrew couldn’t help but want to be _interesting_ as well.
> 
> “I could show you the castle, if you want.”
> 
> “Really?” Neil’s blue, blue eyes widened, as if Andrew had done something really impressive. “That would be amazing, Aaron!”
> 
> Ignoring the name, Andrew turned around to lead Neil deeper into their private wing.
> 
> Aaron always made fun of Andrew’s blanky but Abby said it was nothing to be embarrassed about. So Andrew wasn’t. After another look at Neil’s warrior outfit, though, he quickly folded it anyway and carefully placed it on a chair nearby (he didn’t like messes).
> 
> In his head he was already thinking about all the things he would show Neil. Maybe he could even show him his room.
> 
> No one from outside the castle had ever seen his room.
> 
> And maybe he would show him the library. Palmetto had the _best_ library.
> 
> For now, though, he told Neil everything he could think of. About the forest and the animals and the castle.
> 
> He couldn’t remember ever having talked so much. But Neil still _listened_.
> 
> They must’ve walked around for _hours_ , Andrew was sure of it, when Neil started fidgeting with his cloak.
> 
> Annoyed that Neil had lost interest, after all, Andrew blurted, “Why are you being twitchy.”
> 
> “Uhm,” Neil paused, “I should probably go back soon. My father… he doesn’t like it when I walk off.”
> 
> Oh. Andrew’s mother sometimes also got angry. Andrew didn’t like it. She always started screaming and telling Andrew that he had ruined her life.
> 
> Andrew never knew what to do to make it better.
> 
> But why would Neil walk off if he knew his father didn’t like that? Andrew decided that Neil didn’t make any sense.
> 
> “And you did it anyway.”
> 
> “Well, yeah.” Neil shrugged his shoulders and squirmed.
> 
> Sighing dramatically, like Nicky sometimes did, he said, “Come on, I’ll show you the way to the castle entrance. Everybody should be there.”
> 
> Andrew quickly led Neil to the entrance hall where he knew everyone always got together at the end of the day. Andrew couldn't wait for tomorrow when the tournament would finally be over, allowing Andrew to once more move freely around the castle grounds.
> 
> One day, he would sneak out and watch the tournament.
> 
> He had seen some of the warriors that fought in the tournament and they had looked _so strong_. Sometimes he wished he could be like that—no longer a curse for his family but _worth_ something.
> 
> It was a childish wish, of course. Andrew knew that. Luther had explained to him that no one could change who they were.
> 
> And Andrew was _no one_. So there was no reason for him to hope to be _someone_.
> 
> As soon as he could see the entrance hall where people were already standing in clusters, he stopped before anyone could spot him. Noticing that he had stopped, Neil turned around and smiled at him. _Him_.
> 
> His eyes crinkled at the sides, his teeth were a bit crooked. Andrew’s teeth were also a bit crooked so he didn’t mind. Abby had said that was okay because he would _lose_ them one day and grow new ones. Andrew didn’t know how that was supposed to work but Abby was very smart, so he didn’t question it.
> 
> “Thank you, Aaron.”
> 
> Andrew stared at the bright eyes and huffed, walking off before he said something stupid.
> 
> He wondered if he would see Neil again.
> 
> _[end of memory]_

Staring at those blue, blue eyes, turned icy from the harsh light, Andrew froze for a moment, his brain going blank at seeing Neil.

“My name is Nathaniel, I am the Crown Prince of Baltimore.”

Neil’s voice sounded sure but tinny in the cave, the slight echo distorting it until it was almost unrecognizable.

Not knowing what to do, Andrew thought about how he should’ve planned this better. He had been so busy with denying that this whole mess was happening that he’d never even thought about how he should handle the moment when he would have to reveal who he was.

Also, fuck Aaron for not telling Andrew who he had convinced to take part in the Liberation.

Taking a deep breath, he reminded himself that this was _Neil_ , so it was okay.

Neil. _His_ Neil.

Neil who just fought a dragon… with another dragon? And who could make light float in front of him?

Andrew was so confused.

Stepping slightly away from the bend in the tunnel, he could tell the exact moment that his too broad stature registered in Neil’s brain.

“You’re… not a princess.”

Andrew almost rolled his eyes. That was such a Neil way to react to a completely absurd situation.

“Ten points to Gryffindor,” he couldn’t help the traces of humor in his voice that were only ever present when he was with Neil. If he asked any of his family members or _friends_ , they would swear he had no sense of humor.

Whatever. Neil laughed at his jokes all the time.

Or, well, used to. When they had still been able to spend the tournaments together. Before his stupid brother had gotten married to someone from a kingdom where royals were not allowed to participate, trapping Andrew once more in his castle.

Watching Neil, Andrew could barely make out his face in the dim light of that weird floating thing in the air. Still, he could see the confusion, the tension in Neil’s shoulders not letting up, clearly not recognizing Andrew’s distorted voice.

“I… don’t know a Griffeldor,” the idiot finally settled on. “I am Nathaniel and I have been sent to bring the Princess of Palmetto home.”

Andrew dragged a hand down his face. He was going to kill Aaron. In addition to not telling Andrew who he should be expecting, he had apparently also left it entirely up to Andrew to clear up the situation to Neil. Couldn’t the asshole have at least teased something about who Andrew was?

Fucker.

Before Andrew could respond, Neil went on, annoyance now clear in his voice. “Look, I don’t know who you are but there should be a princess here.” Looking around, he continued, “Is this the wrong cave?”

“You’re so stupid.”

At Andrew’s words Neil’s head snapped back, eyes narrowed.

Stepping fully around the bend and into the wide entrance of the cave, Andrew approached Neil until he could feel the surprisingly warm light hitting his face.

“Neil.”

Neil was staring at Andrew, mouth slightly open. Slowly, he lowered his two daggers until they were resting by his sides, arms hanging limp.

“Aaron?” Neil’s eyes flickered over Andrew’s face, shoulders, hair, taking in everything from his thick fur clothes to the longsword in his right hand and the crossbow and arrows in his quiver, both strapped to his back and visible over his shoulder. “You’re not Aaron.”

“No.”

“You’re a prince.”

“And you’re an idiot.”

That startled a single laugh out of Neil, sounding more like shock than anything else. For a long moment afterwards, they simply looked at each other.

Andrew took in Neil’s appearance, with his black-on-black outfit with its sleek armor and subtle details emphasizing his athletic built. His strength was easy to underestimate if you didn’t notice his toned arms and thighs, the ease with which he held his weapons. His ability to stand strong in the face of adversity apparent in the network of thin scars that zigzagged across his neck and hands and past the hemline of his tunic.

Neil had always been the strongest person Andrew knew, making it hard to believe that he was standing before him. _Now._ In this _stupid cave_ , of all places.

Neil’s eyes, in turn, were roaming over Andrew’s face as if searching for something. Andrew tried very hard to not hope he would find whatever he was looking for.

“Hi,” was Neil’s brilliant contribution after what felt like hours of stunned silence between them.

“Hi.” Okay, maybe Andrew wasn’t much better.

“You never were Aaron.”

“No.”

“Brothers.”

“Yes.”

This conversation was terrible, but it still felt like the best thing that had happened in months.

“Your family believes in curses.”

Looking at the light orb that was floating between them, Andrew said, “So does yours.”

Neil simply nodded, letting silence once more settle between them. For a moment Neil bit his bottom lip before stopping suddenly and looking at Andrew sheepishly.

_You can’t let anyone know that you’re nervous. They will take advantage of it._

His own voice echoed in his head. They had been standing at the edge of the forest in Palmetto, both just kids.

“It’s just me.” The words were out before Andrew could stop them.

A smile broke out on Neil’s stupid face. Andrew wanted to look away, but couldn’t.

“I know,” came the quiet answer.

Neil usually wasn’t quiet unless he was deep in thoughts. Or angry. Or disappointed.

What if Neil was disappointed? He had expected a princess, after all.

The thought hit Andrew like a dragon flying at full speed, making his stomach drop in realization.

“Are you…” Andrew almost didn’t want to say the word but knew he couldn’t hide from the truth anyway. After all, there was no point pretending that this— _he_ —was what Neil had signed up for. “Disappointed?”

Neil furrowed his brows, eyes not leaving Andrew’s even for a second. “Why would I?”

Andrew shrugged, suddenly very aware of their close proximity, the weird light still floating between them. “Because it’s me.”

“Why would I be disappointed about that?” Neil blinked a couple times, as if making sense of what Andrew had said. “Why, are you?”

The ease with which Neil had answered Andrew’s question was too honest, too open. Andrew couldn’t deal with this. Sometimes, Neil was just too much. And the fact that he was _here_ was threatening to overwhelm Andrew.

No, not overwhelm.

It was annoying.

Yes, better. Andrew nodded to himself in his head.

Ignoring Neil’s question, not ready to go anywhere near the topic of how he felt about Neil being here, he quickly—and _smoothly_ , of course—changed the topic. “So uhm… Do you… want to get out of this cave?”

“Oh.” As if remembering where they were, Neil looked at the dark and damp walls, wrinkling his nose.

It looked entirely stupid.

“Yes, I’m not a fan of the moldy smell.”

“Neither am I and after two weeks, I could do with a change in scenery.”

His voice would’ve sounded flat to anyone else, but Neil noticed the traces of irritation. He always noticed these things.

It was another reason why Neil was unbelievably annoying.

“My father rescinded the initial agreement and halted everything for a week. And then his guards slowed down our journey to get here.”

“Your father is an asshole.”

“Yeah, well.” Neil shrugged, the exchange had been repeated a thousand times between them in the past. “Ready to get on the road?”

“Yes.”

Grabbing his supplies, he followed Neil to the entrance and out into the sunlight.

He wondered if Neil even realized the significance of stepping out of the cave together. Wondered what Neil thought would happen next. For a moment he thought about saying something but ultimately decided against it.

Andrew figured there was no need to bring it up just yet. He would wait a couple more hours. Or maybe days.

Yes, days sounded good.

> _[memory]_
> 
> **_Kingdom of Columbia | Spring, 164 th Year of Reverence | The day of the Royal Liberation of Princess Katelyn of Columbia_ **
> 
> Andrew waited while Katelyn collected the few things she had brought to keep her busy for the couple hours she had had to wait for Andrew.
> 
> The Liberation had been a complete joke. They had picked the lowest cave in the Columbia hills they could find and the most boring dragon imaginable. Throughout the whole thing, people had been standing at the foot of the tiny hill, cheering Andrew on as he had ‘fought’ the dragon.
> 
> Told him to fuck off, was more like it.
> 
> Even Aaron would’ve managed to do that.
> 
> Still, he was glad that Aaron was at home, safe from any unexpected dragon attacks or challengers from the crowd.
> 
> Because that was apparently a thing in Columbia—people could challenge the crown prince to a fight and if they won, they got the princess and the kingdom.
> 
> It was completely stupid. But that was Columbia in a nutshell.
> 
> Why his brother wanted to rule this whacky kingdom was a mystery to Andrew.
> 
> “You do know that by walking out of the cave with me, you promise to take my hand in marriage and rule my kingdom?”
> 
> Katelyn’s high-pitched voice was full of humor, her feelings always _right there_ for anyone to see. How Aaron could stand this person, Andrew didn’t understand.
> 
> Rather than responding to her inane comment, he just glared at her.
> 
> As if remembering that marrying Aaron meant confiding Andrew once more to the castle, ruining even the last remains of freedom he had clawed out for himself, Katelyn wisely shut up and looked at the ground.
> 
> Unfortunately, the quiet only lasted for a moment before Katelyn had to ruin it again.
> 
> “I’m sorry. I know this is making things… difficult for y—”
> 
> “Shut up.”
> 
> Andrew had enough of people talking to him for the day.
> 
> Without any further words, he walked out of the tiny cave, leaving Katelyn to hurry after him. Outside, upon seeing the two of them, the people of Columbia broke out into another round of celebration in honor of their new king and queen.
> 
> _[end of memory]_

Blinking against the harsh sunlight, Andrew did his best to ignore just how fucking small the ledge outside the cave was.

“So, uhm,” Neil paused, looking around as if trying to find the easiest way back down. “Who is Griffeldor?”

Once his eyes got used to the brightness, he watched Neil for several moments failing to pick a path as if he couldn’t remember how he had walked up here. Done with waiting for Neil to make up his mind, Andrew pushed him to the side and started leading the way down.

He couldn’t wait to be off this fucking death trap.

“It’s Gryffindor. And it’s not a person.”

“Oh. Then what does it mean?”

“It... It's just something people say.”

“Why would you say something when you don't know what it means.”

The sound of Neil’s feet slipping on the loose rubble had Andrew whirl around on instinct, reaching out to make sure Neil didn’t fall. However, instead of steadying Neil, he lost balance himself—they were really high up, okay—and Neil ended up holding onto Andrew’s forearms until he had found his footing again.

Glaring at Neil’s small smile, Andrew turned back and continued down the mountain, his left hand gripping the rocky mountain to his left.

“I know what it means,” he threw over his shoulder after his heart had calmed down again.

Stupid high mountains.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Neil raise his eyebrows, mockingly.

“Shut up.”

“Sure, sure.”

He decided to ignore the knowing look Neil was giving him, refusing to be mollified by Neil’s easy acceptance.

“Also, what did you do to Reginald. And what the fuck was that light thing.”

Just because Andrew hadn’t commented on the light being sucked into Neil’s chest upon stepping out into the sunlight didn’t mean he hadn’t seen it.

It had been very creepy and not at all impressive.

“What is a Reginald?”

Andrew huffed. Maybe it was from annoyance, maybe it was because this mountain was fucking steep and Andrew didn’t like it.

Also, couldn’t the cave have been closer to the ground? There was no need to make it so inaccessible.

“The dragon.” He absolutely did not wheeze.

“Why would you call it Reginald?” Thankfully Neil didn’t mention Andrew’s _slightly_ heavier breathing. Sometimes Neil wasn’t a complete asshole.

“Because that’s his name.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“And how would you know?”

“Dragons don’t have names.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t give him one.” Looking over his shoulder at Neil and seeing him follow in his footsteps, looking all superior and mysterious in his stupid black getup, Andrew continued, “I gave you one, didn’t I.”

Andrew only caught a small smile before he turned back to the front, slowing down when he reached the part of the path that was pure rubble.

“I guess.”

The conversation came to a halt while they were climbing over loose stones and jumping from boulder to boulder.

* * *

Once they made it to the bottom of the mountain and had reached the shade of the forest, Andrew finally turned to Neil.

Neil, who had had too much fun climbing down that stupid mountain for Andrew’s taste, sobered up pretty quickly. “I didn’t hurt him. I wouldn’t hurt an animal.” After a short pause, he added, “You know that.”

Andrew did. Contemplating Neil in front of him, he eventually said, “I do. But I also thought we didn’t have any secrets and here you are, Mr Floating Light Orb.”

“And here you are, Princess Not-Aaron.” Neil glared at Andrew.

Well, touché.

Letting his shoulders drop, Andrew took a deep breath.

“You’re right.”

“I know.”

_Petty much?_

Now it was Andrew’s turn to glare at Neil.

Since Neil had never won against Andrew when it came to waiting the other one out, he was predictably the first to break.

“I can… do stuff.”

At Andrew’s raised eyebrow, Neil huffed but continued, “My mother made me swear to never tell anyone.”

“Your mother has been dead for ten years, Neil.”

Looking down at the mossy forest ground, Neil just whispered, “I know.”

Once more, Andrew simply waited him out.

“I… I wanted to tell you.” Neil met Andrew’s eyes, determined. “I did.” Faltering slightly, he continued, “But I couldn’t risk my father finding out. I couldn’t risk him hurting you, silencing you.”

Neil was looking around them, his eyes flicking from tree to tree. It felt like an eternity before he met Andrew’s eyes again.

“I couldn’t risk that.”

Andrew decided to ignore the warm, tingly feeling threatening to take hold in his chest and focused on the important things.

“So you’re what, a sorcerer?”

“A witcher, actually. But I’m not really fuzzed with terminology.”

“A witcher.” Andrew stared at Neil and tried to reconcile this new knowledge with a lifetime of knowing him. “You could’ve told me. I wouldn’t have told anyone.”

“I know you wouldn’t have.” Neil paused, calmly looking at Andrew. After several moments of silence, a small grin tucked on Neil’s lips, new-found humor dancing in his eyes. “I guess neither one of us was ready to take that plunge, princess.”

Andrew glared at Neil, pushing his stupid face away. “That will not be a thing.”

Neil just turned his head back, a full grin now lighting up his face. It was a wicked thing that, for a moment, took Andrew’s breath away.

“Well, you’re not Aaron, so princess is really the only name I got for you.”

Oh. Andrew blinked in surprise. He hadn’t realized he’d never given Neil his name.

“Andrew,” he finally said, quietly. It was so rare to say his own name out loud; he wasn’t used to it. And to be saying it to Neil, of all people, felt heavy. Important.

“Andrew.” Neil nodded slowly, humming.

Playing the moment on repeat in his head, his name sounded different on Neil’s lips than he had imagined.

It sounded _better_.

> _[memory]_
> 
> **_Kingdom of Palmetto | Fall, 161 st Year of Reverence_ **
> 
> “Andrew.”
> 
> “No.”
> 
> “Andrew wait, don’t just walk off.”
> 
> “No.”
> 
> Andrew continued walking to his room.
> 
> He was not in the mood for one of Aaron’s problems right now. The Fall Tournament started in a week and Andrew still had to pack before they could get on the road to the Kingdom of Angels.
> 
> He fucking hated the Kingdom of Angels.
> 
> King Richard was okay but his fucking son, Drake, couldn’t keep his hands to himself and Andrew was tired.
> 
> So fucking tired.
> 
> It would be the last time he would have to compete in the young adults category. And if, in the next tournament, his sword just so happened to slip and mortally wound that fucker then that was a tragedy Andrew was ready to live with.
> 
> At least he would see Neil again.
> 
> Neil had completely destroyed the others in his category during the last tournament, Andrew remembered, unable to keep his lips twitching at the memory. Those losers probably already counted the days until Neil would move on to the adult category.
> 
> “Andrew, I’m serious.”
> 
> With a sigh, Andrew finally turned around, face once more a blank mask. “What.”
> 
> Looking around them and fiddling with the hem of his tunic, Aaron took a frustratingly long time to finally get the words out. “I told Katelyn.”
> 
> The words shouldn’t have had any effect on Andrew and yet, reality seemed to tilt sideways.
> 
> “You did what?” His voice was surprisingly low, calm.
> 
> “I told Katelyn about you,” Aaron repeated like the moron that he was. “She kept getting angry with me because you always ignored her during those stupid tournaments, so I had to tell her.”
> 
> “You didn’t _have_ to tell her anything.”
> 
> “Don’t get all pissy at me. It’s not my fault that you can’t act for shit.” Aaron had the audacity to huff. As if it was Andrew’s fault.
> 
> “I am not allowed to leave the fucking castle, but you think you can just tell some girl?”
> 
> “She’s not just _some girl_!” Aaron sounded indignant, completely missing Andrew’s point. “She is the love of my life and I will marry her one day.”
> 
> “You will marry her.”
> 
> “Yes, of course.”
> 
> “She is the crown princess of Columbia.”
> 
> “Yes, I know?”
> 
> “And who will rule over Palmetto, dear brother, when you fuck off with the princess of another kingdom? You do realize that a monarch cannot rule two kingdoms.”
> 
> Aaron had the decency to look conflicted.
> 
> “Well, I haven’t figured that out yet. But we’ll think of something.”
> 
> “Oh, so _you_ can cause the problem, but _we_ will figure it out?”
> 
> “Look, I just wanted to let you know so you’re prepared when you travel to the Kingdom of Angels next week.” Aaron crossed his arms, looking annoyed. “And can you please be nicer to Katelyn? It’s not her fault that you’re an asshole.”
> 
> Andrew wanted to punch the wall. Or Aaron’s face. Either would be good.
> 
> “Look,” Aaron tried again, voice taking on a pleading note, grating on Andrew’s nerves. “This is important. This is about our kingdom, our future. We need to be smart about this.”
> 
> Andrew’s patience was running thinner with every word coming out of Aaron’s mouth. “Congratulations, Sherlock. Maybe you should’ve been fucking smart about it and kept your mouth shut.”
> 
> “What does that even mean?” Aaron threw his hands up, looking frustrated. As if he hadn't been the one to force Andrew into this conversation.
> 
> “It means that you’re a fucking heathen who needs to pick up a book sometime.”
> 
> “Can we please focus on what’s important right now?”
> 
> “No.”
> 
> “Andrew.”
> 
> “I said no.”
> 
> “Andrew, I’m serious about her, okay?”
> 
> “I don’t care”, Andrew finally bit out before walking off.
> 
> This time, Aaron did not follow him. He probably thought that Andrew truly didn’t care.
> 
> And Andrew didn’t. He _didn’t_.
> 
> Aaron could fuck off with this stupid princess and leave Andrew rotting in this fucking castle.
> 
> Whatever.
> 
> It’s not as if there was anything worthwhile in his pathetic existence.
> 
> _[end of memory]_

Walking along the familiar trail through the forest that would lead them to Palmetto—apparently Neil’s people hadn’t even left a single horse or bag of food—Andrew shook his head, irritated at the old memory. Glaring at the path ahead, he focused on the chirping in the trees. The little animals scurrying across the path. Neil walking next to him.

After several minutes, he noticed Neil’s increasingly off-center walk.

“Why are you walking weird?”

“Parting gift from my father’s guards.” Neil shrugged, adjusting his cloak when it shifted with the movement. If the clenched jaw was any indication, he regretted raising his arms immediately.

“I’ll kill them.”

“Sounds good.”

That, too, was a conversation they had had multiple times over the last 16 years.

Looking at Neil next to him, Andrew thought about how 16 years was an incredibly long time to have secrets from each other.

“So, you’re a witcher.”

“Hm.”

“Want to elaborate on that?”

Neil nodded but stayed silent for several minutes, seemingly struggling to find the right words.

“It’s mostly small stuff,” Neil finally said. “Like producing a light orb. Or warming the air around me, but that takes a lot of energy, so I don’t usually do it. Nothing actually useful, like producing fire or something like that.”

Andrew hummed. He could admit to himself, that that _would_ be cool.

“And what’s with the dragon? Can you talk to animals or something?”

“Uhm, no.”

Andrew turned to Neil at the hesitation in his voice, raising his eyebrows upon seeing Neil once more biting his lip.

“I can… uhm… turn into them?”

Andrew stopped in his tracks.

“You what?”

Neil merely shrugged. _Shrugged_.

“Neil, are you telling me you can turn into a dragon? And that you fought Reginald yourself?”

“I really don’t think his name is Reginald.”

“Neil.” Andrew massaged his temples and took a deep breath before looking back at Neil. “Can we stay on topic?”

Neil shuffled for a moment before huffing. “Yes, okay?”

So, Neil could make light appear. And influence the temperature. And turn into a fucking dragon.

“Why the fuck would your father let you ascend the throne of another kingdom?”

“I mean, pretty sure he wants me to die on this trip.” Neil shrugged, as if unconcerned. “And he doesn’t know. Obviously.”

Neil was shaking his head as if the idea that his father would know about his abilities was absurd.

Momentarily speechless, Andrew just stared at this man next to him. He would’ve sworn his life on knowing everything about Neil. He wanted to be annoyed—angry—that Neil hadn’t confided in him. But how could he be angry when even his parents didn’t know?

Neil, oblivious to Andrew’s inner struggle, merely mumbled to himself, “Stupid curse.“

“Neil, people aren‘t scared of the curse. They are scared of what you could do.“

Neil looked up at Andrew, coming to a halt in the middle of the path for a moment. “In the end, it‘s the same, isn‘t it?“

“It really isn’t. One gives people power over you, Neil. The other gives you the power over them.“

Blinking at Andrew, Neil seemed to be stunned into silence. Andrew couldn‘t believe Neil had never realized that he should never make himself small just because of the fears of others.

Neil was already the best fighter Andrew knew. He couldn‘t even imagine what this ability might mean for him.

Brows furrowed, Neil asked slowly, “But then, isn‘t the same true for you? Isn‘t having two eligible princes inherently better than one plus a princess that is not allowed to claim the throne of her own kingdom because of some archaic rules?“

Now it was Andrew’s turn to blink, stunned.

_What._

> _[memory]_
> 
> **_Kingdom of Palmetto | Fall, 161th Year of Reverence_ **
> 
> “Uncle Luther?” Andrew was standing in the open doorway to his uncle’s library.
> 
> “What is it, I don’t have much time.” Luther was always busy. With… something. Andrew wasn’t quite sure what he did all day.
> 
> Ever since his mother had died two years ago, he and Aaron had involved themselves even more in the dealings of the court.
> 
> For Aaron it had been a distraction amid his mourning. For Andrew, however, it had purely been to keep an eye on Luther. Especially after he had noticed that Luther was setting up meetings without them, excluding them from important decisions concerning _their_ kingdom.
> 
> Andrew wasn’t sure what Luther’s objective was. Either way, it was irritating.
> 
> Lately he had even been trying to push for him to accede to the throne since, according to him, a kingdom without king was too vulnerable.
> 
> Thankfully, Aaron had been able to shut that down in a rather heated discussion during a court assembly with all members of the court.
> 
> Ultimately the winning argument had been that a coronation now when Aaron would come off age in less than half a year was too expensive.
> 
> Andrew wanted the members of their court to care about _who_ the king was rather than how much money it would cost them, but since the results had been in their favor, he didn’t complain.
> 
> It made him even more skeptical of Luther, though. Still, he wasn’t above using Luther if it ensured Aaron’s safety.
> 
> Stepping into the room, he closed the door and walked up to his uncle’s desk.
> 
> “I wanted to inform you that Aaron told Katelyn about me,” Andrew finally said.
> 
> Andrew’s existence was a secret in order to keep the court—and thus Aaron—safe.
> 
> _No one can ever know about him._
> 
> The words had been cemented in his head from birth, an undeniable fact.
> 
> “So he did.” Luther’s nasal voice already grated on Andrew’s nerves.
> 
> “Yes, you need to talk some sense into him. He says he’ll marry her so it’s okay, but he doesn’t _know_ that.”
> 
> Luther looked at him contemplating, making Andrew feel like a fly under a magnifying glass.
> 
> “Andrew. You must have misunderstood.”
> 
> At those words, Andrew furrowed his brows. Andrew didn’t _misunderstand_. In fact, he was the only one who realized how dangerous Aaron’s blind trust was.
> 
> Luther let the words hang in the air, running his hand repeatedly over the pile of papers on his desk, as if to smooth invisible wrinkles.
> 
> “Aaron doesn’t have to hide. He will marry the princess of Columbia and become their king.”
> 
> “But he can’t be monarch of two kingdoms.”
> 
> “That is correct Andrew. But you don’t have to worry. That is why I am here.”
> 
> What was Luther talking about? Aaron couldn’t just leave Palmetto.
> 
> “I will take over the royal duties while you will safely live out your life. After all, that is what you want, no? That everyone is safe and taken care of?”
> 
> Yes, that is what Andrew wanted but—what was Luther implying?
> 
> “Do not worry, Andrew. I will take over the throne once Aaron is gone. It is not as if anyone else could take over the duties of the monarch.”
> 
> “But… you’re not next in line in the succession to the throne.”
> 
> “No? Then who is, Andrew?”
> 
> Stunned, Andrew didn’t know how to answer that.
> 
> “Do you want to accede to the throne, Andrew? How?” Luther’s eyes were glinting as he looked down his nose at Andrew. “By all means, everyone thinks you are a nameless princess. You are not eligible to claim the throne as yours, you would need another monarch to do that. Tell me, Andrew, who would make you a king? When no one even knows you exist?”
> 
> _[end of memory]_

“Andrew?”

Hearing his name jolted Andrew from his thoughts.

“Huh?”

“Are you okay? I said your name at least twenty times.”

“No, you didn’t.” Andrew rolled his eyes at Neil’s ridiculousness.

“Slander.” Neil grinned at him before focusing back on the path ahead of them, once more falling into step alongside Andrew.

“Well, what did you want?”

“I asked if you even knew the way to Palmetto.”

“Neil," Andrew looked at Neil incredulously, "we’ve been walking for at least an hour.”

“Yeah, and I’ve been following you the entire time and just thought I should make sure we were actually walking in the right direction.”

“Yes, Neil, I know my way home.”

“Great.” Neil nodded, more to himself than anything else. “I figured, but you know how it goes. Better safe than dead.”

“That’s not how that saying goes.”

“Uh,” Neil seemed to think for a moment, “pretty sure it’s better to be safe than dead.”

“Yes, obviously.” Andrew rubbed at his temple. “But just because something makes sense doesn’t mean it’s a saying.”

Neil just shrugged, falling silent again.

It lasted for about five minutes.

“So, what were you thinking about?”

“What you said. Before.” Andrew looked over at Neil, making sure Neil got it without Andrew having to repeat the exact words. “And about my uncle. And my brother.”

Andrew had never thought about it like that before.

That his mere existence could’ve been the obstacle in someone else’s plan. That he might be able to accede to the throne himself.

That maybe it wasn’t some curse that was holding him back. But simply the people who gained from hiding Andrew from view.

Neil merely hummed, leaving Andrew to turn the words over and over in his head, probably knowing that Andrew would speak up again when he felt ready.

They walked along the path through the forest, trees hanging low, the afternoon sun slowly falling behind the horizon and taking daylight with it.

“My mother had decided to hide me.” Andrew surprised himself when the words came tumbling out of his mouth after being hidden in the darkest corners of his mind all his life.

“I wasn’t allowed to leave the castle much. Once I was a bit older, I was allowed to go into the forest but never into the village. It was too risky that someone might notice that I wasn’t Aaron. My mother started yelling and screaming every time I was gone even a minute too long. When she died, I didn’t shed a single tear.”

Neil, next to him, hummed but didn’t interrupt.

“I couldn’t wait to leave the castle. By the age of four I knew every single tile and shingle. Every stupid step and every fiber of every carpet. I hated being stuck inside.”

“That’s why you started participating in the tournaments,” Neil finally guessed. “To get out of the castle.”

Andrew furrowed his brows. How was it possible that Neil understood him within seconds when no one in his own family seemed to get it?

And at the same time, how could Neil still not _know_? When every part and every thought of Andrew wanted one thing more than anything else?

> _[memory]_
> 
> **_Kingdom of Palmetto | Winter, 161 st Year of Reverence | One moon cycle after the coronation of King Aaron of Palmetto_ **
> 
> “Why can’t you just accept that it is too dangerous?”
> 
> “No.”
> 
> “For fuck’s sake, don’t just ‘no’ me!” Aaron had been yelling at Andrew for the past half hour, seemingly still not tired of repeating the same irrelevant arguments over and over. “Why do you insist on risking your life? There is no need for you to do it.”
> 
> “It’s not about risking my life.”
> 
> “Then what, pray tell, is it fucking about?” Aaron threw his hands in the air. “For fuck’s sake, Andrew. Do you even realize that if you get hurt it also impacts me? Do you ever think about the fact that your actions have real life implications for others?”
> 
> “Are you serious?” Andrew stared at Aaron, daring him to repeat what he had just said.
> 
> “Of course I am!” Aaron yelled, completely ignoring Andrew. “I just ascended the throne! You can’t just go to those fucking tournaments and still participate like before! You’re an adult now, that means people could hurt you. They could fucking kill you! And then what?”
> 
> “They won’t.”
> 
> “You don’t fucking know that!” Aaron started running his hands through his hair, making it stick up in all directions, braids getting tangled up. “Andrew, at some point you need to grow up and accept the fact that you have a responsibility to your kingdom. To me.”
> 
> “ _I_ need to grow up?”
> 
> “Yes! You’re always angry with everyone and everything. But you can’t take out your anger on other people like that.”
> 
> Was Aaron fucking kidding?
> 
> “What am I supposed to do if you got hurt? Have you ever thought of that?”
> 
> “Have I ever—,” Andrew stopped himself before he said something he would regret.
> 
> How could Aaron think that Andrew didn’t think of him? When Andrew lived in the solitude of the castle just so that Aaron could roam and rule and live freely. Just so that no one knew they were cursed. Just so that no one revolted against them as the reigning royals of Palmetto—not their own people, nor any other kingdom thinking Palmetto was an easy kingdom to snatch up.
> 
> How could Aaron think that?
> 
> Andrew would not give up the tournaments.
> 
> They were the only moments when he was _free_.
> 
> When he could move as _he_ pleased. Be _with who_ _he_ wanted.
> 
> When he could just _be_.
> 
> If Aaron still didn’t get that, Andrew wouldn’t lose his breath trying to make Aaron understand.
> 
> “I will not stop fighting. And you cannot make me.”
> 
> Done with this conversation, Andrew turned around and walked off, leaving Aaron behind and ignoring the insults thrown at his back.
> 
> _[end of memory]_

Shaking his head slightly to get rid of Aaron’s angry voice in his head, Andrew asked, “What makes you think it was me who fought in the tournaments?”

Neil scoffed. “Aaron is smart. I’ve been to too many strategy meetings with him not to notice, but he’s not confident. And every time the King of Palmetto stepped onto the sand of the arena during the tournaments, he radiated strength and confidence.” Glancing at Andrew, he added quietly, “You always do.”

After a moment of silence, Andrew feeling too off kilter to respond, Neil continued, “In hindsight, I should’ve figured it out sooner. You’re both so different.”

“No, we’re not.” Andrew finally said, ignoring the irritating impulse to stand up straighter at Neil’s words. “We’re exactly the same.”

“You’re really not.” Neil glanced at Andrew, his eyes moving from Andrew’s face to the fox fur hanging over his shoulders and to where his crossbow was strapped across his chest but didn’t elaborate.

Andrew didn’t want to seem too interested, so he didn’t ask.

Coughing once to disperse the warm feeling creeping up his neck, he instead said the first thing that came to mind, “So, animals, huh?" Groaning internally, Andrew quickly added, “I mean, can you turn into any other animals?”

Neil raised an eyebrow at him but otherwise didn’t mention the abrupt change of topic.

“I can turn into all kinds of animals, really.” After thinking for a moment, he went on, “I have to see the animal or have a very good image of it in my head, because otherwise I might end up missing something essential, like a leg or something.”

“So, you can’t just be an animal you’ve only read about?”

“Nope,” Neil said, popping the p.

“But when you’re an animal do you still think like a human?”

“Oh yeah, I kind of have some of the same instincts as the animal but for the most part I’m still me. Just in a different body.”

“That is so weird.”

Neil laughed quietly, running his hand through the messy strands of his hair as if self-conscious. “I guess.”

Wait. Neil _was_ self-conscious.

Andrew thought back to what he’d just said and wanted to punch himself. Clearly no one had ever supported Neil and his abilities and here Andrew went and called him fucking _weird_.

Good job, Andrew.

“Neil.” He waited until Neil looked over to him. “I think it’s really cool that you can do that.”

He hated complimenting people. But he somehow was willing to make an exception for Neil.

In general, he made entirely too many exceptions for Neil. He really needed to figure out how to stop doing that.

“Oh, yeah?”

Andrew rolled his eyes at Neil. “Yes, idiot.”

They continued in comfortable silence, but Andrew could tell that thoughts were churning in Neil’s head.

“Sometimes I wanted to just fly away and never come back.” Neil finally settled on, the words barely loud enough to be heard over the noises in the forest around them.

“Why didn’t you?” Andrew ignored the tight feeling in his chest at the thought of Neil disappearing from his life.

“He would’ve found me, I’m sure of it.”

Neil didn’t have to say who _he_ was. Andrew knew Neil’s paranoia when it came to his father was massive.

“Even if you’re an animal?”

“I can’t stay the same animal for too long, or otherwise I wouldn’t be able to change back. At least that’s the rumor. I don’t feel like testing it,” Neil said, looking at Andrew imploringly.

Andrew nodded, not wanting Neil to test it either but hesitant to say so out loud. After all, it’s not as if Neil needed his permission. Or had asked for Andrew’s opinion.

After several long beats, Neil added, “Besides, I wouldn’t be able to decide on just one animal. I want to be all of them.”

“Does it hurt?”

Neil faltered in his off-center walk, surprise written on his face as he looked once more at Andrew.

“No, it… it just feels like a lot of energy is bundled and then released. I think people next to me feel it more than I do myself.”

“Show me.”

“What?”

“Show me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literary references in this chapter thanks to Palmetto library:
> 
> Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling
> 
> Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle


	5. Chapter 5 – POV Andrew

**Kingdom of Palmetto | Fall, 164 th Year of Reverence **

Andrew watched Neil shift into squirrels and birds until they both got tired of finding new animals for Neil to turn into.

Plus, Andrew could tell that the constant push and pull of energy was slowly taking its toll on Neil.

Watching him, Andrew thought about how, never in a million moon cycles, Andrew would’ve expected to be stuck in a forest, a several-weeks walk away from his home, watching Neil changing from animal to human back to animal.

How naïve he had been to think that playing princess in a cave would be the most bizarre thing of his life.

“What happens to your clothes?” Andrew asked after Neil had once more shifted back into a human and was lying next to him in the grass, looking tired.

They had settled down since they were clearly not going to make any significant progress toward Palmetto in the remaining hours of the day before it would be completely dark around them. They should probably set up a fire for the night soon, Andrew thought absently as he watched Neil’s chest rise slowly with each breath.

Neil merely shrugged at his question, eyes closed, so Andrew lightly kicked his right leg where it was stretched out on the ground.

Neil slowly opened his eyes, watching the sunset above them coloring the sky in pinks and dark lavenders before turning his head to Andrew sitting next to him. “Don’t know.”

“You don’t know.”

“Yes. I don’t know.”

“How do you not know.”

“I don’t know, _Andrew_ ,” Neil sounded irritated, now glaring at the sky. “Apparently I don’t know a lot of things, so excuse me that my dead mother couldn’t explain to me all there is between the land and the sky before she was killed by my father when I was barely ten years old.”

Andrew watched Neil furrow his brows, clenching his jaw.

After several minutes of Neil glaring at the sunset sky, Andrew offered quietly, “Maybe there are books in the Palmetto library on that. So we can find out.”

Hearing the words, he almost wanted to reach out and catch them before they became real, before Neil could understand their implications. But it was too late.

Too late to take them back and shove them deep down where he could pretend his thoughts didn’t exist. Where they could rot and die alongside a lifetime of unspoken words—colored by uncertainty, insecurity, _hope_ —that were lurking at the back of his mind and wanted to come out, wanted to question Neil about what would happen once they made it to Palmetto. To the kingdom Neil could claim. Could have.

If he just wanted it.

Neil’s head snapped to Andrew, eyes wide in surprise and completely unaware of Andrew’s inner meltdown. “Uhm, yeah, okay.”

Only when Neil had relaxed again, his body once more sinking into the soft grass, did Andrew start looking for firewood, rolling his rigid shoulders to get rid of the sudden tension.

He wasn’t disappointed that Neil hadn’t responded to Andrew’s suggestion of Neil staying in Palmetto.

He _wasn’t_.

* * *

After several attempts, a small fire was finally crackling next to them, giving off much needed warmth in the chilly September night. They were lying next to each other on the cold grass close to the fire, their cloaks pulled tight around them, lending what little warmth they had retained over the day. Above them, clouds had drifted off, giving them an unobstructed view of the stars in the night sky.

“I could turn into a dragon, you know.” Neil whispered, lying on his back and eyes locked onto the sky, the tips of his softly curled eyelashes glinting copper in the flickering light of the fire.

Andrew hummed, lying on his side facing Neil, wondering what he would look like as a dragon.

“I could fly us home. We could be in Palmetto by tomorrow, easily.”

Blinking at the unexpected image of them _flying_ home, Andrew grunted. “No.”

Neil huffed, more amusement than actual annoyance, scrunching his stupid nose. In fact, it looked so stupid, Andrew had to turn his head away.

It lasted only a moment, though, before his eyes unwillingly returned to Neil.

“I wouldn’t drop you. I’m a perfectly fine flyer.”

“Yeah,” Andrew mumbled, burying deeper into his cloak, pulling his knees further up. “You’re perfectly fine alright.”

At that Neil looked over at Andrew, looking confused. “Hm?”

Andrew didn’t feel like repeating what his traitorous mind had let escape his lips, so he just shrugged.

Andrew watched Neil turning back, once more staring at the sky above. After several minutes, he could see Neil furrowing his brows and, with a deep sigh, Neil turned his head to Andrew. His bright eyes danced over his face, not settling on any feature.

Andrew would never say it out loud, but he didn’t mind those moments where Neil looked at him as if nothing else was important. As if, if he just looked closely enough, he would find something important in Andrew.

Trying to calm down his stupidly racing heart, he told himself that there was no point in asking what it was Neil was searching for. That it was probably something irrelevant, something nonsensical.

After what felt like hours, Neil’s eyes locked with Andrew’s, a small smile spreading on his face.

“What?” The question escaped Andrew’s lips before he could stop them, Neil’s stupid face too distracting.

Turning on his side, mirroring Andrew, Neil just shrugged, no answer forthcoming.

This was why he usually didn’t ask. Neil tended to be useless.

“Good night, Andrew.” Neil finally whispered before closing his eyes.

> _[memory]_
> 
> **_Kingdom of Palmetto | Summer, 164 th Year of Reverence_ **
> 
> Andrew watched Aaron walk around the room, over and over again. Nerves were making him twitchy, his hands constantly running over the fox fur draped over his shoulders, pulling it this way and that.
> 
> The light colors of his vest and pants combined with obligatory hints of armor across his chest and on his forearms managed to look regal, the longsword—a replica of Andrew’s—hanging off his belt. Andrew, by comparison, looked almost shabby with his dark brown leather vest and near-black pants over scuffed boots. Then again, Andrew wasn’t the one getting married today.
> 
> He wouldn’t even be allowed to attend the festivities.
> 
> “You wanted this. Don’t tell me you are already regretting it.”
> 
> Andrew kept his voice flat. He didn’t care that he couldn’t attend his brother’s wedding. It was just a stupid ceremony. Who wanted to sit around for hours and watch people cry?
> 
> Aaron huffed, turning around and making his way back over to Andrew, passing the side table where his crown was perched on an expensive pillow, gemstones glinting in the sunlight falling through the wide windows.
> 
> “I’m just…,” he paused, taking in Andrew’s bored stance, his eyes moving from the frayed edges of Andrew’s tunic to the grass stains from spending too much time in the forest. “What if I’m not good enough for her?”
> 
> Andrew rolled his eyes at his brother.
> 
> “The two of you couldn’t stay away from each other since childhood. I’m pretty sure she knows what to expect from getting married to a loser like you.”
> 
> Aaron’s glare was only halfhearted. At this point, he knew how to read Andrew. At least some of the time.
> 
> As if steeling himself, Aaron took a deep breath, eyes not leaving Andrew’s.
> 
> “I want to introduce you to the public.”
> 
> _What._ Andrew blinked in surprise.
> 
> That was not what he had expected Aaron to say.
> 
> “No.”
> 
> “Yes, Andrew.” Did Aaron have to pick this moment to find his confidence? “You’ve been hidden away your entire life. Even though you have brought more honor to our kingdom than I could ever hope to.”
> 
> “You arranged for new trading deals with Columbia.”
> 
> Now it was Aaron’s turn to roll his eyes. “Yes, Andrew. Pretty sure me becoming their king had something to do with that.”
> 
> Aaron looked to the windows and out across the courtyard where thousands of people were already waiting to see the new royal couple.
> 
> Turning back, he dropped his voice, sounding urgent. “I want this for you,” he said as he pointed at the window and beyond. “I want so much for you, Andrew. And they deserve to see you, to get to know you and cheer for you as they do for me.”
> 
> “I don’t care.”
> 
> “One day, Andrew, you will meet that one person that will make you nervous and calm at the same time, that will be the storm to turn your life upside down. That can make the land and sky drop into the background with a single word. With nothing more than a look. One day, brother, you _will_ care.”
> 
> Andrew merely stared his brother down until Aaron turned for another circuit of the room, taking his nerves with him.
> 
> Andrew _didn’t_ care. And he never would.
> 
> _[end of memory]_

Long after Neil’s breathing had evened out, Andrew was watching how the fire let shadows dance over Neil’s face and how his hair moved in the breeze. Only once he was sure that Neil was deep asleep, no longer in pain from his injuries, did Andrew finally close his eyes as well.

After weeks of waiting and wondering, Andrew was exhausted. Still, his brain vehemently refused to shut up, thoughts running in circles.

It was as if the crackling fire faded into the background and the forest fell silent around them as Neil’s soft voice echoed in Andrew’s head, his small smile dancing across the insides of his eyes.

_Andrew._

* * *

“Last night was pretty much a full moon, so we’re at about half time. That leaves us with half a moon cycle to make it to Palmetto,” Neil said while they walked in the early morning sun through the forest, making their way further south-east to Palmetto.

“Hm.” Andrew had nothing to add, too tired from a night spent sleeping on the cold ground. He still couldn’t believe that Neil’s guards had left him with nothing, making them walk all the way with no food and no supply of water.

Actually, thinking about it, he could very well believe it, which only made him more angry.

“That means we need to start walking a bit faster.”

“Hm.”

“Or—”

“No.”

“Andrew, listen, it’s really safe, I promise. I fly all the time as dra—”

They both stopped at the same time, having heard a twig snap to their left in the forest.

Andrew had already expected that they wouldn’t make it home without some kind of attack. But since him and Neil had already noticed their assailants, they could take advantage of the element of surpr—

“Hey fuckers, we know you’re there. So you might as well come out and face us.”

Or they could yell at their would-be attackers and give up the element of surprise. Like idiots.

Sometimes Andrew wanted to strangle Neil.

Turning to the thick underbrush, they watched as a group of seven men stepped out.

Great.

Tired, hungry and outnumbered.

Next to him, he saw a grin split Neil’s face. His stance was screaming “try me”, his eyes saying “I will make you regret your life choices.”

Andrew turned back to the men. Now was not the time to get distracted.

“What, don’t have any threats you need to deliver?” Neil’s voice was taunting. He almost sounded gleeful at the prospect of fighting the men.

Andrew closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

This idiot was unbelievable.

* * *

Half an hour later, standing on the forest path surrounded by seven dead men, Neil was inspecting his ankle, grimacing whenever he tried to put weight on it.

Looking at the sky before shaking his head in resignation, Andrew finally gritted out, “Stop it, you’re making it worse.”

That earned him a glare. And because Neil was a moron, he promptly shifted his weight onto his clearly injured foot, just barely keeping the grimace off his face.

Sighing in the face of so much stupidity, Andrew added, “Come on, we’ll find a place to sit so you can rest your ankle for a bit before we keep going.”

Neil complained all the way to a fallen tree on the side of the path, insisting that he didn’t _need_ rest. Ultimately, though, he shut up and did what Andrew told him. He probably knew it was futile since Andrew would never let him continue with an injury.

Looking at their battered state, Andrew thought about how the men had been surprisingly competent, landing more lucky swipes than he would’ve liked.

He had taken one out straight away with his crossbow—he would never understand why people thought they could jump out of the way when the arrow had already been released.

Next, he and Neil had split the remaining six between them, neither of them holding back.

Soon into the fight, though, Andrew had noticed that Neil had been struggling, his prior injuries clearly putting him at a disadvantage.

Spurred on by Neil slowly losing ground to his attackers, Andrew had ruthlessly gotten rid of his three before quickly running over to help Neil.

Andrew didn’t want to think about what would’ve happened if Andrew had not been there. Even together it had been harder to fight the attackers off than he would’ve liked. Considering that whoever sent these men was supposed to think Neil was only accompanied by a helpless princess, it made the number of men suspiciously large.

Focusing on Neil as they sat down on the fallen tree, Andrew snatched Neil’s leg to take a closer look at his ankle. A surprised squawk was quickly covered up and replaced by a glare as Neil steadied himself.

“You’re such an idiot.”

“And you almost made me fall off. I don’t see how hurting my back will help us.”

“Why do you always have to start fights that you can’t win.”

Neil looked around them. “We won.”

“Yeah, because I stepped in to save your pathetic ass.”

“I know.”

The incredulity in Neil’s voice had Andrew look up, momentarily pausing his prodding and poking at Neil’s ankle.

“Then why did you have to antagonize them further when you knew you wouldn’t be able to win by yourself.”

“Because I didn’t have to win by myself. I knew you were there. And as long as one of us wins, we both win, remember?”

> _[memory]_
> 
> **_Kingdom of Palmetto | Spring, 157 th Year of Reverence | Day 6 of the 302nd Royal Quarterly Tournament_ **
> 
> Neil had lost his fight.
> 
> Andrew had watched with growing concern as Neil had struggled more and more against his opponent until, now, he had to watch him being escorted from the arena after the referee had called the win for the opponent—a 15 year-old heavy weight that had pushed Neil more around using his weight than showing any actual skill with his weapon.
> 
> Watching with a grim face how the winner got celebrated by the audience, Andrew already knew that at the next tournament Neil would take this asshole apart.
> 
> Looking back to where Neil had scurried off to, he quickly ran down the steps and to the exit of the arena. Snatching Neil’s cloak that was still hanging over a bench where Neil had waited to be called prior to the fight, he went to find his best friend.
> 
> Seeing him standing in a corner to the side, facing the wall, where no one was paying attention to him, Andrew quickly walked up to him.
> 
> “Hey Neil.”
> 
> He could see Neil tense up, not turning to him. Stepping closer, he could see Neil’s red nose, his teeth buried deep in his bottom lip.
> 
> “Uhm, don’t cry?”
> 
> “’m not crying.” Neil sniffed unconvincingly and blinked a couple more times, but Andrew didn’t call him out on it.
> 
> “You were really good. Well, until you lost your scimitars, but uhm...,” Andrew drifted off, unsure what to say, feeling useless. He never had to _console_ someone before. How did you even do that? “That turn you did in the middle, where he almost lost his grip, that was so good.”
> 
> Neil finally looked up, eyes locking with Andrew. After a moment, he noticed his cloak in Andrew’s arms and Andrew easily handed it over, watching Neil wrap it around his shoulders.
> 
> It was pretty warm outside, so Neil didn’t actually _need_ a cloak.
> 
> Andrew didn’t point that out, either.
> 
> After several minutes where Neil looked increasingly distraught and didn’t react to any of Andrew’s prompts, he finally mumbled, “My father,” into his cloak, once more biting his lip. “He’s going to be angry.”
> 
> Neil finally turned to Andrew, his eyes glassy and desperate.
> 
> “I messed up, Aaron.”
> 
> “No, you didn’t.” Andrew quickly looked around them before shuffling closer, trying to come up with something that would make Neil feel better.
> 
> Neil was Andrew’s _best friend_. He was also his only friend, but that was not the point right now.
> 
> The point was, Neil was important to him, whether Andrew wanted to admit it or not. And he didn’t like watching his friend being sad. Especially over something as irrelevant as a stupid fight.
> 
> Of course, Andrew knew that to Neil this wasn’t just any fight.
> 
> This had been three years in the making and he didn’t even want to think about what expected Neil tonight when he would have to face his father.
> 
> His father, who hadn’t even been there. Apparently, he had told Neil that he would only attend the final round since anything less was not worth his time.
> 
> One day, Andrew would challenge this fucker and end him.
> 
> One day.
> 
> For now, though, he focused on Neil.
> 
> “That other guy was totally cheating,” Andrew finally said, hoping that would make him feel better. Bee had once told him, while they had been baking pie together, that a little white lie was okay now and then. And Andrew trusted Bee.
> 
> (Not that he would tell her.)
> 
> “He was?”
> 
> “Yes, I saw it.”
> 
> “Oh.” sounded hopeful, with his stupidly big round eyes resting on Andrew.
> 
> “Yes, totally.” Andrew nodded at Neil.
> 
> “Still, I wanted to win.” Neil paused before adding, “You did.”
> 
> Andrew wanted to roll his eyes at Neil but refrained. You see, Andrew was a good friend.
> 
> Instead, he simply said, “It’s my second tournament, though. So I know what to expect.”
> 
> Neil still furrowed his brows. “But you also won the last time.”
> 
> Andrew decided that this wasn’t going anywhere and let silence settle between them.
> 
> He liked that it didn’t feel weird with Neil when there was silence. Most people always tried to fill silence with noise.
> 
> Neil didn’t.
> 
> Once Neil looked better, more sure of himself again, Andrew noticed that he was still holding on to Neil’s arm. And when had he even reached out?
> 
> Finally dropping his hand and locking eyes with Neil, Andrew said, “As long as one of us wins, we can’t lose. I won, so we both won. That’s how we work.”
> 
> Andrew hoped Neil would feel better soon. And that his father wouldn’t be too angry tonight.
> 
> _[end of memory]_

Andrew glared at Neil, with his stupid messy hair that glinted like fire in the bright sunlight, and his blue eyes that looked like summer skies and his small smile that haunted Andrew in his dreams, as he sat across from him, looking at him, oblivious as always.

“Stop putting yourself in danger. They could’ve seriously hurt you.”

Neil just waved him off. “I knew they had no chance. They didn’t expect you to be there, so I knew we’d be fine.”

Poking at Neil’s ankle for a couple minutes, Andrew finally asked, “Don’t you think that the number of men was suspicious?”

“Oh definitely. They clearly knew I wouldn’t be alone—probably sent by my father, maybe with some side information from that Luther guy. But they didn’t seem to expect _you_ to be there with me.” Neil shrugged. Fucking _shrugged_. “So, all good.”

Stunned at Neil’s blasé statement and the surety in his voice, Andrew momentarily forgot Neil’s ankle still cradled in his hands.

Parking the conversation about Neil’s father and Luther to bring up at a later point, he decided it was more important to focus on Neil’s complete disregard for his personal safety.

“Maybe next time I’ll just watch you be cut into smithereens just because you never know when to shut your mouth.”

Neil had the audacity to smile at Andrew.

“You wouldn’t. You would always help me. It’s who you are.”

“No, it’s not.” Andrew narrowed his eyes at Neil, trying to ignore the grin that appeared on Neil’s lips.

“So it wasn’t you who participated in every quarterly tournament between kingdoms in Aaron’s stead to make him look strong? It wasn’t you who rescued Katelyn so your brother could marry her? It wasn’t you who faced down my father when he wanted to expand his territory past the river line, encroaching onto yours because he thought it was an easy grab of power? It wasn’t you who chose to step out of the shadows to play “princess” when your brother pledged to take over his wife’s kingdom, leaving his own kingdom uncertain about the future with King Kengo to the West and King Nathan to the North?” Neil paused, letting his words sink in. “You need me to go on?”

Andrew just glared harder. “Shut up.”

Clearly satisfied, Neil raised an eyebrow.

In retaliation, Andrew poked his ankle a bit more forcefully than necessary, eliciting another undignified squeak from Neil, followed by a grumbled “asshole.”

* * *

The days crawled by as they moved further east toward Palmetto.

Nathan had clearly been convinced that the first group of assailants would do the job since there were no more attacks.

At least not the human kind.

On day four, as they were walking along the forest path, Neil next to him humming a nonsensical melody and swinging his arms as if he didn’t have a care in the world, Andrew noticed that deep in the forest to their right, a group of wolves had started to walk alongside them.

Only Neil’s sharp grin and raised eyebrow let Andrew know that Neil had noticed them as well.

The wolves followed them through the underbrush of the forest for more than four hours. Andrew had grown up seeing wolves in the forest all the time. Still, he didn’t appreciate being stalked for more than 14 miles, forcing him to be always on the lookout to make sure they wouldn’t come closer.

Especially not as a pack.

Andrew and Neil decided quietly to skip lunch—no need to go hunting when there were fucking wolves lurking behind every bush.

That night, they were so exhausted that Andrew decided it was not the right time to bring up Palmetto and what would happen once they got there.

After all, there was more than enough time left on their journey.

* * *

On day seven, Neil managed to stumble upon a beehive. And, like the idiot that he was, he couldn’t let the hive go and instead wanted to explore it.

This resulted in a rather undignified chase down a hill and desperate jump into a creek in the hopes of getting the bees to leave them alone.

When Andrew broke through the water’s surface, he saw Neil coming up for air only a couple feet away. But where Andrew’s glare could’ve killed lesser beings, Neil was grinning from ear to ear as if being chased by a swarm of bees had been the most fun he’d ever had.

“I fucking hate you.”

Neil just laughed, already wading through the water to the shore, drenched cloak and all.

After they had stripped down to their tunics and pants, had thrown their cloaks and vests over a nearby tree to dry in the sun and placed their boots nearby, they had started to dry their weapons as best they could while sitting in a sunny patch of grass next to the creek.

At least it was early enough in the day, so they could wait for their clothes to dry before they would have to put them back on. Eying the clothes gently moving in the breeze, Andrew hoped they wouldn’t still be damp by the time nightfall came around.

Sitting next to each other, Andrew gaze wandered to Neil where he was leaning back on his elbows, face turned toward the sun and clearly enjoying the warmth.

How could Neil enjoy sitting here, wet and hungry and tired, when they could be making actual progress on their way home? Grumbling, Andrew untangled his wet hair, slowly taking the braids and clips out. Neil being Neil, though, merely chuckled at Andrew’s mood and didn’t pay any further attention to him.

Pulling the still wet tunic from his chest, Andrew tried to air it out, hoping it’ll make the fabric dry faster.

It wasn’t working.

After a moment, he noticed that Neil had started watching him. Dropping his hands back into his lap, he glared once more at Neil—ignoring the amused glint in his eyes—and said, “What?”

“Usually, when an animal gets angry with me, I just turn into one myself and either fight it off or run off. I realized too late that wasn’t an option since I couldn’t just leave you.”

Andrew blinked in surprise. “So you could’ve gotten yourself to safety but decided not to because… of me?” That was ridiculous. If Andrew had known that, he would’ve told Neil to turn into… whatever animal there was. There was no point in them both getting chased down that fucking hill.

“Yeah, of course.”

Andrew couldn’t remember when another person had willingly put themselves in harm’s way just because… of him.

“Well,” Andrew paused, trying to find something so say. “Congratulations, now we’re both wet. And we lost a day’s worth of walking.”

“We’re good with the time.”

“How would you even know.”

“You would tell me if it wasn’t so.”

Andrew just huffed, not admitting that Neil was right.

“I could try turning into a horse.”

Watching Neil next to him, with his tunic unlaced in the front and sticking to his damp chest, it took Andrew a moment to register Neil’s words.

Distracted, he mumbled, “Good for you.”

Neil’s long legs were stretched out in front of him, his pants rolled up, the material stretching around his muscular thighs. They looked firm. And strong.

“You could ride me.”

Andrew’s brain short-circuited at that. “What?”

Andrew’s eyes snapped up to Neil’s face that was once more turned up to the sun. At Andrew’s question, Neil opened his eyes and looked at Andrew, shifting his legs slightly.

“What?”

“I don’t want… that’s… what.”

“Don’t tell me a couple feet is still too high for you?” Neil’s voice was incredulous.

“What are you talking about.”

“Me being a horse? You being scared of heights?”

“I’m not.”

The response was automatic. And patently untrue. Neil had known Andrew for too long to not be aware of his fear of heights—or falling, to be precise—but until now they had abided the unspoken rule of not mentioning anything of that sort.

That being said, right now Andrew was more than willing to talk about heights and falling and all kinds of other scary things as long as it distracted Neil from the heat that had started crawling up Andrew’s neck and up to his ears.

Sometimes, he was the stupid one between the two of them.

(But usually it was Neil.)

Neil, oblivious to Andrew’s inner monologue, raised his eyebrows. “That’s why you won’t ride on my back in dragon form. I’m not stupid.”

“Debatable.” Andrew rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off the tension that had suddenly settled between his shoulder blades.

Neil just rolled his eyes at Andrew before closing them once more, turning his stupid face back to the sun and thankfully dropping the topic.

After thinking about bringing up Palmetto for a full second, Andrew decided this was not the right moment. He couldn't risk Neil talking about any form of riding again.

> _[memory]_

> **_Kingdom of Palmetto | Summer, 164 th Year of Reverence_ **
> 
> “Everyone shut up, I have something to announce.”
> 
> Andrew rolled his eyes at his brother’s words but accepted the fact that this was really happening.
> 
> Looking around the sitting room, he noted the wild mix of people—from members of the court to guards to service members.
> 
> The advisers to the court, however, were notably absent.
> 
> Across the room, Dan managed to take her eyes off her fiancé for the time being while Matt tried and failed to follow her example. Kevin was standing at attention, as always. Allison, a spoiled lady of the court, was sitting on one of the windowsills, playing with her hair as if she was the next queen and everyone else was waiting to be received in audience.
> 
> Next to her was Renee, sitting quietly and content with observing the room. She didn’t talk much and didn’t pry—one of the reasons why Andrew and her got along. She also wasn’t scared of the forest which had led Andrew to allow her to accompany him when they were both younger.
> 
> Andrew tried to ignore the small distance between the two women. Renee was too good for Allison. He had tried to tell Renee several times, but Renee had yet to listen to him.
> 
> When the room had quieted down to mere murmurs, Aaron simply said, “Andrew will be introduced to the public.”
> 
> Suddenly the room went dead silent, eyes snapping to Andrew.
> 
> With all the attention on him, Andrew did his best to keep his face indifferent.
> 
> “What do you mean, he will be introduced to the public?” Kevin asked, slightly hysteric.
> 
> “Do you already have a plan?” Dan said, being somewhat more helpful.
> 
> Aaron took a deep breath and let his gaze wander across the room. “I will be crowned as King of Columbia in one month.” He quickly looked down at Katelyn sitting on the futon to his right. “And there have already been voices of unrest in the general public. They demand to know who will take the throne of Palmetto.”
> 
> “Is Andrew eligible to take the thr—”
> 
> “What about the curs—”
> 
> “Is that a good idea?”
> 
> “Maybe you could rule both kingd—”
> 
> “The other kings won’t allow it!”
> 
> “What about our house’s reputation?”
> 
> Questions were thrown around, causing the room to erupt in a cacophony of voices. Until, finally, Renee’s gentle voice cut through the upset chatter. “I think that is a wonderful idea to let Andrew step into his rightful place and ascend the throne of Palmetto.”
> 
> At once, the others shut up as if remembering that Andrew could hear them.
> 
> He didn’t care about their doubts and their lack of confidence in Andrew. After all, he had said the exact same things when Aaron had told him about his intentions.
> 
> Still, he nodded at Renee, grateful for her support, nonetheless.
> 
> “There have been…,” Aaron paused, searching for the right words to explain the difficult situation they had maneuvered themselves into. At last, rather than finishing the sentence himself, he looked to Andrew.
> 
> With a deep sigh, Andrew ignored his brother’s inability to voice the suspicions they held and merely explained, “There are plans in the making to take the throne from our lineage and rule the kingdom once Aaron has acceded to the throne of Columbia. With force, if need be.”
> 
> “What? Who?” Dan looked between Andrew and Aaron. As the head of his personal guard, she knew it was her job to know of any dissidents and voices of opposition.
> 
> “Luther.” Andrew’s voice was flat, uncaring.
> 
> “But… That’s your uncle. He’s been faithful to this kingdom all his life.” Kevin, always too trusting. “He ruled alongside your mother for years until Aaron came off age, even taking over all responsibilities of the monarch after your mother had died.”
> 
> “And you think her death wasn’t overly convenient? Or his efforts to have an official coronation for him once she had died weren’t suspicious?” Andrew couldn’t keep the irritation from his voice.
> 
> Kevin really got on his nerves, sometimes.
> 
> “I mean… but… treason? That’s a pretty strong accusation.”
> 
> “Andrew literally just said that my father had Queen Tilda killed, but sure, focus on the treason part,” quipped Nicky from his perch on one of the chairs near the fireplace.
> 
> “Okay, focus.” Dan shushed Kevin who was about to go off on Nicky. “So, Luther is trying to take over the kingdom, so we need to present an eligible king that is not Luther.”
> 
> “Yes.” Aaron nodded at Dan, once more letting his eyes wander across the room before settling on Andrew.
> 
> “Can Andrew rule on his own?” Allison spoke up, surprising Andrew. He hadn’t expected her to contribute anything of value. “I mean, no one knows he even exists. How well do we think he will be received when no one knows if he can lead a kingdom?”
> 
> “He’s been fighting in the name of this kingdom all his life. Of course he can lead this kingdom.” Aaron huffed, clearly too irritated with Allison’s objection too understand the truth in her words.
> 
> Sometimes, Aaron was too sentimental for his own good.
> 
> “What she means, I think,” Katelyn said, placing a delicate hand on Aaron’s arm to calm him down, “is that the people of Palmetto would probably like some reassurance that their new monarch is established among kingdoms and will receive the support from other kings.”
> 
> “Yes, and just letting everyone figure out that he’s been fighting in your stead, Aaron, might not be the surefire way to get everyone’s approval that you think,” Wymack, head of the royal guard, cautioned from his post near the door. “In fact, they might get angry because you’ve been playing them for nearly a decade. And Columbia might just join in.”
> 
> Watching his brother’s furrowed brows and focused look, Andrew could see the exact moment Aaron had an idea he was not going to like.
> 
> “What if he took the throne with another royal who is established across kingdoms? That way the acceptance for him as king does not solely rely on just his person but can be split between the two.”
> 
> “Okay, great idea, but everyone thinks he’s a girl.” Allison said, astute as ever. “It’s not as if you can just talk to every eligible royal and pretend you have a princess to marry off when in truth it’s Andrew. What royal would not only fall for that scam but also continue to go through with it once they find out the truth?”
> 
> “I mean,” Aaron was looking at Andrew, considering, “once they’ve agreed, it’s either marrying Andrew or relinquishing their right to a throne.”
> 
> “Congratulations, that’s called extortion,” Wymack said dryly.
> 
> Andrew didn’t react to the fact, that his brother clearly thought that no one would willingly want to marry Andrew. And it wasn’t even that Andrew didn’t agree. He just didn’t appreciate this to be taken as fact and accepted by everyone.
> 
> Since no one had any other objections—and Wymack’s suggestion was clearly deemed irrelevant—the room settled down once more, heads nodding.
> 
> “And who will be the poor royal we will scam into marrying Andrew?”
> 
> Listening to the list of princesses and ladies being thrown around, Andrew couldn’t help feeling as if he was being auctioned off to whoever the people around him deemed stupid enough to go through with the plan.
> 
> “Why don’t we go with someone Andrew likes?”
> 
> Andrew almost scoffed at Matt’s suggestion. The stuttering around him was confirmation enough that clearly no one had considered that there _was_ someone Andrew might like.
> 
> There _wasn’t_ , of course.
> 
> “Yes, good point!” Aaron blurted out. With a relieved smile and newfound determination, he turned to Andrew. “Executive decision. We will not only find someone who will conveniently fit into our plans, even if it might make things harder. We will find the woman of your dreams, Andrew.”
> 
> “I don’t fuck women.”
> 
> Stunned silence answered Andrew’s statement.
> 
> “Well,” Allison’s voice was laced with humor, clearly enjoying Andrew’s misery, “A full Royal Liberation it is, then.”
> 
> Renee really needed to start listening to Andrew.
> 
> Looking at Aaron, Andrew could tell that he was overwhelmed with the news. How Aaron had never noticed his lack of interest in any of the ladies at court was a mystery to Andrew. Then again, it’s not as if they had been able to attend many festivities together.
> 
> “Okay,” Aaron said, nodding his head as if trying to shake off Andrew’s revelation before haltingly summarizing, “So we’re back to convincing an eligible royal to agree to marrying the princess of Palmetto and then sit and wait what the guy will do once he finds out that he’ll have to marry Andrew.”
> 
> Everyone nodded, once more completely ignoring Andrew.
> 
> “How about Jeremy?” Kevin sounded almost hopeful, earning him several pitiful glances.
> 
> “I will kill myself if I have to spend even two minutes with that person.”
> 
> “Well,” Abby mediated, “I don’t think someone who already rules a kingdom is an option, anyway.”
> 
> “Plus,” Allison jumped in, “I’m pretty sure we can get ready for Jeremy and Jean to announce their wedding any moment now.”
> 
> Thankfully everyone ignored Kevin’s crestfallen look, moving on without acknowledging his sad crush. Especially since Thea, his fiancée and member of the royal guard, was standing right there next to Wymack.
> 
> Good thing Thea had the patience of a court jester in front of a children crowd.
> 
> “What about Drake from the Kingdom of Angels?” Matt asked.
> 
> Andrew quickly shot down that suggestion as well, leaving the room stunned after his comment about Drake’s inability to keep his hands to himself.
> 
> “Okay,” Nicky spoke into the silence, drawing out the vowels. “How about Ichirou?”
> 
> “That creepy fu—”
> 
> “He’s a crown prince. Much like Jeremy and Drake, he has no immediate incentive to marry the princess of another kingdom,” Renee calmly cut in.
> 
> “Riko? He’s not a crown prince.”
> 
> “Andrew almost punched him last year during the winter solstice in Baltimore, remember?” Matt cut in before Andrew could voice his thoughts on Riko.
> 
> “That had been an intense tournament. You never said what was going on with you back then.” Nicky paused. “Andrew?”
> 
> Andrew ignored Nicky, refusing to think about that tournament. It had been more than half a year since then.
> 
> It was fine.
> 
> “Speaking of Baltimore, what about Nathaniel?” Allison asked. “He’s a crown prince but unless he openly challenges Nathan it’s not as if he will ever get the thro—”
> 
> Aaron groaned loudly, cutting off Allison. “Fuck no, that weirdo is so fucking annoying.”
> 
> “Pretty sure he would say the same thing about you.” The words were out before Andrew could stop them. Immediately, all heads turned to him, the room being shocked into silence at hearing Andrew defending someone.
> 
> “So that’s a maybe on Nathaniel?” Renee’s quiet voice broke everyone out of their stupor.
> 
> “I don’t care. I’m done with this conversation.”
> 
> Feeling his ears heating up, Andrew quickly stalked out of the room. Not daring to think about blue eyes, watching him knowingly. And messy hair, falling in auburn curls onto shoulders clad in black.
> 
> Or the rapid beating of his heart whenever Neil gave him one of his teasing smiles. Or the funny bubbles going crazy in his stomach at hearing Neil’s quiet laugh at one of Andrew’s deadpan comments.
> 
> Or the way he never felt more like himself—the way he could just be himself—than when he managed to sneak away from everyone else with Neil by his side, even if Neil didn’t even know his real name.
> 
> Nope. He wouldn’t think about any of those things.
> 
> Because no matter if it was unintentional obliviousness or intentional ignorance, Neil clearly wasn’t interested.
> 
> He had made that very clear in the past whenever Andrew tried to hint at things and Andrew would respect that.
> 
> _[end of memory]_

* * *

On day ten, Andrew shot a pheasant that they roasted over a small fire in the middle of the day.

Sitting next to the fire and stuffing their mouths, Andrew didn’t even care that they were losing time on their way to Palmetto.

Instead, he listened to Neil’s stories about the last tournament that he had missed. They were peppered with snide remarks and condescending comments, reminding Andrew more than anything about what he had missed over the last months.

Life outside the castle.

Life with Neil next to him.

When Neil described in detail how boring the longsword tournament had been and how much better it would be once Andrew would participate again, Andrew couldn’t help but return Neil’s small grin with one of his own.

Several hours later, after they had packed up and started walking again for another couple miles that day, Neil still hadn’t brought up his decision regarding Palmetto.

So Andrew didn't raise the topic, either.

* * *

On day thirteen, they finally saw the white castle of Palmetto in the distance, its familiar turrets and orange shingles peeking through the trees.

They were both exhausted. Food and water had been scarce and sleep had been more and more difficult due to the dropping temperature even in the warm territory of Palmetto. At night, they had started to huddle closer to each other, not speaking about it come daylight.

It was endlessly frustrating.

They still hadn’t talked about what would happen when they arrived in Palmetto and with every day Neil seemed to become more nervous, hands fidgety and movements twitchy.

Andrew almost snapped when he noticed Neil checking the daggers along his belt for the umpteenth time as soon as they spotted the castle in the distance.

If Neil didn’t want to be here, if the idea of staying with Andrew was so terrible that he felt the need to go through his safety measures of checking each and every weapon on a continuous loop as if getting ready to run off at any moment, then Neil could just say so.

It’s not as if Andrew wasn’t used to being pushed aside, left in the dark where no one would see.

What was one more rejection?

Andrew vehemently ignored the tightness in his chest, the sick feeling in his stomach.

That was just because he was hungry. And tired.

It would be fine once he was home.

“Hey, it’s the first time I didn’t have to wait for you.”

Neil’s voice broke Andrew out of his thoughts, his eyes soft but uncertain.

Andrew just stared back, remembering how he had to fight his mother, his brother, and what felt like every member of the court just so he would be allowed to fight in the tournaments.

So he could spend those couple days every three moon cycles outside the castle, exploring the other kingdoms, moving as if he was free.

So he could spend those few, few days with the only person he wanted to see. Again. And again.

The only person that mattered since he had been four years old.

> _[memory]_
> 
> **_Kingdom of Palmetto | Spring, 150 th Year of Reverence | Day 2 of the 274th Royal Quarterly Tournament_ **
> 
> “Aaron!”
> 
> The high voice had Andrew looking across the entrance hall of Palmetto castle. It was day two of the spring tournament and Andrew was finally allowed to join the festivities, his brother having agreed to let him stand in for him.
> 
> Seeing the boy with the blue eyes and red curls across the room had Andrew’s shoulders drop in relief.
> 
> Neil had not forgotten Andrew.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **_Kingdom of Palmetto | Winter, 151 st Year of Reverence | Day 1 of the 281st Royal Quarterly Tournament_ **
> 
> “Aaron! Finally!”
> 
> Andrew’s head snapped up at Neil’s voice, seeing the seven-year old already sitting up on the arena steps from where they would be allowed to watch some of the fights.
> 
> “Look, you can sit next to me!”
> 
> Andrew made sure to quickly run over to his best friend before someone else would steal his seat.
> 
> That seat next to Neil was _his_.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **_Kingdom of Palmetto | Spring, 153 rd Year of Reverence | Day 1 of the 288th Royal Quarterly Tournament_ **
> 
> “Aaron, there you are!”
> 
> Neil quickly walked over to where Andrew had been standing by himself next to a column in the throne room of Palmetto.
> 
> “Why do you always show up late.” Neil was laughing, not actually waiting for an answer.
> 
> As soon as Neil was close, Andrew snatched his hand and dragged him to one of the practice arenas so he could show Neil what he had learned since the last tournament in Palmetto.
> 
> He had decided that he would fight in the tournaments. That way they would be able to hang out all the time. Because, with seven kingdoms taking turns hosting the event, it took way too long until they always saw each other again in Palmetto.
> 
> He was so excited to tell Neil.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **_Kingdom of Baltimore | Winter, 156 th Year of Reverence | Day 1 of the 301st Royal Quarterly Tournament_ **
> 
> When his carriage stopped in front of Baltimore castle, Andrew couldn’t help but feel nervous.
> 
> It was the first time he had been allowed to leave Palmetto.
> 
> It would also be the first time that he would fight in a Royal Tournament.
> 
> The cold winter in Baltimore had him shivering despite the many layers but seeing a bundled up Neil—red curls sticking out from the dark hood—had him feeling better immediately, some of the nervousness finally leaving his tense shoulders.
> 
> Andrew would make sure he won.
> 
> He couldn’t wait for Neil to see him win.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **_Kingdom of Troy | Summer, 159 th Year of Reverence | Day 1 of the 311th Royal Quarterly Tournament_ **
> 
> Andrew could already see _Jean_ standing next to Neil when his carriage finally came to a stop in front of the castle of Troy.
> 
> Even just sitting down, Andrew was ready to melt into the seat cushions due to the ridiculous heat in this hell of a kingdom. Lifting the fur lining of his collar away from his sweating skin to let some air in, he tried hard not to regret his outfit.
> 
> He already knew that Neil would make some stupid comment about it. Then again, maybe Neil wouldn’t even notice, with fucking _Jean_ around.
> 
> When he stepped onto the cobblestone, however, Neil immediately turned around and started walking towards him.
> 
> Andrew could see his eyes sweeping his outfit, a grin already threatening to break out on his lips.
> 
> Okay, maybe he _did_ notice.
> 
> Andrew didn’t even mind.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **_Kingdom of Evermore | Winter, 161 st Year of Reverence | Day 1 of the 321st Royal Quarterly Tournament_ **
> 
> “Your royal highness, fancy meeting you here.”
> 
> Andrew turned around at the teasing words, the low voice as familiar as the weight of his sword in his hand or the pattern of the Palmetto insignia across his chest.
> 
> Raising an eyebrow, he ignored the fact that Neil was wearing more formal clothing in the typical black-on-black combination with few blue accents. There were feathers woven into the red curls, the heavy cloak emphasizing Neil’s easy confidence with which he always walked around whenever his father wasn’t near.
> 
> “I hate you.”
> 
> The sound of Neil’s laughter drifted through the marble hallways of castle Evermore, taking with it the tension Andrew had felt for the last couple weeks since he had announced—to the consternation of his entire court—that he would continue fighting in the tournament despite officially having ascended the throne of Palmetto.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **_Kingdom of Baltimore | Winter, 163 rd Year of Reverence | Day 1 of the 329th Royal Quarterly Tournament_ **
> 
> When his carriage stopped in front of the dark, foggy castle of Baltimore for the winter tournament, Neil was already running down the stairs towards Andrew’s carriage.
> 
> Andrew swallowed heavily as he stepped onto the pavement, the lump in his throat not letting up.
> 
> Katelyn’s Royal Liberation was scheduled for spring, Aaron and Katelyn’s wedding following soon after.
> 
> This would be Andrew’s last tournament where he would be allowed to compete.
> 
> This would be the last tournament he would be allowed to attend.
> 
> This would be the last time that he would be able to spend time with his best friend. With _Neil_.
> 
> Seeing Neil hurrying towards him, blue eyes shining bright with a hidden smile that he only ever let Andrew see, Andrew already dreaded the moment when he had to say goodbye.
> 
> _[end of memories]_

Closing his eyes for a long moment, Andrew pushed those memories away. They were no longer important.

“I guess.”

Andrew’s flat tone had Neil’s eyebrows bunch up.

“Andrew…,” Neil seemed to be at a loss for words, locking eyes with Andrew as they stepped into a little clearing with a perfect view over the valley of Palmetto.

This was the moment Neil would tell him that he was going back to Baltimore. Andrew knew it. Because even a hell hole like Neil’s father’s kingdom was better than a life with Andrew.

He stared steadily back, nodding slowly, willing Neil to just tell him.

But Neil stayed quiet, mouth opening and closing as if the words just wouldn’t come out.

After several minutes of gut-wrenching uncertainty, Andrew finally snapped. “If you’re suffering so much by being here, you can just fuck off, you know.”

A stunned Neil stared back at Andrew.

“What?”

“Clearly you don’t want to be here. Well, no one’s forcing you.”

“I… what?”

“I don’t need a chaperone to walk me home, Neil.”

“I know?”

Why wouldn’t Neil just take the offer and leave? Why was he making it harder on Andrew?

“Okay then. Now that we cleared that up, I will just…” Andrew waved uselessly at the castle, eyes flickering between the valley and Neil.

“Andrew, did I do something wrong?”

“What?”

“I just…” Neil blinked quickly, eyebrows furrowed. “I guess I just thought we would spend more time together. I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to come with you to Palmetto because… Well, it would _mean_ something, right?” Neil looked at Andrew imploringly, still fidgeting with his daggers.

When Andrew didn’t say anything, Neil pulled his cloak tighter around himself. He was crossing and uncrossing his arms in front of his chest in choppy movements as he continued, “You didn’t say anything on the entire way here. But I was hoping… Since we haven’t seen each other in a while and… I was so relieved when I saw you and… But if you don’t want me to come with you to Palmetto, that’s…” Neil drifted off, nibbling furiously on his bottom lip. After several beats, he mumbled, “I guess I thought we would arrive together, is all.”

Andrew was so confused. This was the weirdest way to say goodbye Andrew had ever experienced.

Why would Neil want to come to the castle just to leave again afterwards? Did he want to say hello to Aaron? Or did he want to stay a couple days? And why?

This made no sense.

Andrew felt his anger deflate, shoulders dropping. The weight of his gear, his cloak, his frustration pushing him down. “And then? How long are you planning on staying when we get to Palmetto?”

“I… don’t know. How long do you want me to stay?”

The question made Andrew pause, the words managing to break through his resignation.

Against Andrew’s will and better judgment, a tiny glimmer of hope caught fire deep inside of him, burning through his lungs and throat, making it hard to breathe, to think.

_How long do you want me to stay?_

What if Neil might _stay_?

Swallowing hard, stepping closer to a fidgeting Neil, Andrew wanted to explain, wanted to tell him what a life in Palmetto could look like.

“I…,” Andrew tried, he really did, but couldn’t find the right words. In the end, the only thing he said, was “Stay.” Then, hurriedly, he added, “If you want. I know it’s not what you signed up for. But. Stay.”

Finally— _finally_ —Neil stopped twisting and turning the fabric of his cloak in his twitchy hands. A small smile spread across his face, eyes crinkling by the side, shoulders seemingly sagging in… relief?

“Yes, Andrew, of course I’ll stay.”

Staring at each other, Andrew could see Neil’s eyes slowly roaming over his face in the way he sometimes did, had done so all of Andrew’s life ever since they’d been children, searching for something Andrew desperately wanted Neil to find in him.

“52,” Neil finally said, smile not wavering, words softly spoken.

“Hm?”

“There are 52 freckles.”

Andrew closed his eyes for a moment at the absurdity of that statement.

Of course, Neil would choose this moment—when it felt as if all the weight of the mountains had been lifted from Andrew’s shoulders as if the land and sky had switched places, nothing but soft clouds holding him on the ground—to say something so ridiculously _stupid_.

“95.”

Now it was Neil’s turn to furrow his brows in confusion.

“95 times out of a hundred I want to shoot you with my crossbow.”

Neil’s face cleared in understanding but instead of the fear that Andrew was used to from other people, Neil grinned at him. Teasing. Knowing.

“What about the other five times?”

Andrew huffed and shoved Neil’s grinning face away so he wouldn’t look at Andrew _like that_.

He had been convinced—trying to accept—that Neil wouldn’t stay. Now, after the last couple minutes, Andrew needed a moment to wrap his head around what just happened. What it could mean.

Neil let comfortable silence settle between them. Above them, dragons flew across the valley, drawing Neil’s eyes to the castle in the distance. Andrew watched his gaze wander from the castle to the village, with its thatched roofs and market stalls lining main street.

Finally, Neil’s eyes returned to Andrew’s. And, as if he wasn’t challenging the rules of monarchy, he asked simply, “Ready to face your kingdom?”

The words seemed to fall into the space between them, sinking into the ground and solidifying Andrew’s roots to his home, _his kingdom_.

Slowly, hesitatingly, Andrew reached for Neil, settling his right hand on Neil’s neck, feeling his warm skin and the rhythm of his pulse.

While he carefully rested his left hand on Neil’s waist, soft leather armor cool under his fingers as he tugged him closer, Neil placed his hands on Andrew’s shoulders, playing with the fur like he had done a million times before.

_I always wondered if it’s soft._

Neil’s words from more than a decade ago echoed through Andrew’s mind.

In turn, Andrew slowly pushed his fingers up into Neil's hair.

_It’s even softer than I imagined._

His own thought at 12 years old whispered back at him.

Them being close wasn’t new, Neil the only exception to everyone else in Andrew’s life for longer than he could remember.

Yet somehow it suddenly felt more real.

More important.

Tilting his head further up, Andrew gently, more gently than he had ever been, pulled Neil’s face toward himself. Miraculously, Neil didn’t hesitate, following his movement willingly, readily.

In the second before Andrew closed his eyes, he could still see the small smile that Neil only ever gave Andrew.

Because it was _Andrew’s_.

From one heartbeat to the next, his lips were brushing against Neil’s. Everything around them dropped away, nothing registering other than the feeling of Neil’s lips against his, the weight of Neil’s hands on his shoulders, Neil’s pulse racing under his fingers.

When they pulled back the tiniest amount, the small smile still playing around Neil’s lips, Andrew whispered, “Ready to face _our_ kingdom?”

After a beat, with hope suspended in the air between them, Neil leaned back in and pressed a soft kiss to the right corner of Andrew’s lips.

“Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my story! Kudos and comments always make my day :)


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